Enthralled
by PJ XD
Summary: NextGen. A strange and sinister phenomenon seems to be gripping the populace of Hogwarts lately. People are acting as if their personalities have changed overnight - like some sort of spell. Fiery Rose Weasley teams up with an unlikely ally in sarcastic, abrasive Scorpius Malfoy to discover the root of the problem, and slowly finds herself falling under a different kind of spell...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N – So, this story uses the interpretation of the next gen. characters from my 'Just Rose' fic. If you've read that, you'll know that they are a quite a bit different to how I've portrayed them in my other fics. **

**This story starts in sixth year for Rose, Albus and Scorpius. **

**Hope you enjoy it!**

**Only the plotline and personalities of the next gen belong to me. Everything else is Ms. Rowling's.**

* * *

_One_

"Mr Potter, Miss Weasley, will you pay attention!"

Al and I froze as Professor Vector's voice snapped sharply through the quiet classroom. Instead of studying our arithmancy problems, as we were supposed to be doing, we'd been surreptitiously engaging in an all-out war in which one of us attempted to pelt the other with as many Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans as we could before Vector turned back around from the blackboard and caught us.

This time, I hadn't quite managed to land my hit. It had flown wide, hitting Alice Longbottom in the eye. Her resultant shriek had been what tipped Professor Vector off to our behaviour.

"Sorry, Professor," Al said, working hard to keep his expression under control. Albus rarely got in trouble. He was a conscientious student, and made a great deal of effort in all of his classes. Me, on the other hand… well, I attract mischief like white clothing attracts dirt. In my six years of Hogwarts, I've lost track of the amount of detentions I've been given.

"Miss Weasley, do you have anything you wish to say?" The professor surveyed me with a piercing blue glare. I turned to Alice, who was nursing a red and swollen eye. I did my best to school my features into a look of contrition, but, truthfully, I found the whole thing pretty funny. "Sorry, Alice. I didn't mean to get you."

Alice gave me a thin smile in response. "It's okay."

Apparently mollified, Professor Vector resumed whatever she'd been droning on about. After shooting a grin at Albus, I tuned out. I had no idea why I'd even bothered with Arithmancy as a subject. Probably, I thought darkly, because my mother had cajoled me into it.

Although I was ten shades smarter than most of the people in my year, I had no patience when it came to academics. Where was the overall life lesson in memorizing these charts? How could reading someone's tea leaves possibly serve me in the real world? I'd often voiced these opinions at home. While my mother had agreed with me about the merits (or lack thereof) of tea leaves, she'd shouted me down when it came to the benefits of academia in general. Of course, I would've expected nothing less from the great Hermione Weasley.

By the time the class was dismissed, I couldn't wait to get out of there. I snatched my bag and unceremoniously swept my books into it from on top of the desk, upsetting a pot of ink in the process. Hastily, I wiped my stained hands on my robes, thankful that the dark blue ink didn't really show up on the black material. It didn't get it all off though – my fingers would be blue for days. Great.

Albus caught me up when I was halfway down the corridor, an amused grin curving his mouth upwards. "Where's the fire, Rosie Posie?"

I scowled. He knew how much I hated that nickname – he only did it to annoy me.

"I can't believe I ever thought taking Arithmancy was a good idea," I grumbled, hitching my bag further up my shoulder when it was in danger of slipping.

"Aw, c'mon Rosie," Al clapped a hand on my shoulder. As the better half of the beater duo for the Gryffindor team, he sometimes didn't know his own strength, and I found myself being buffeted forwards a few steps. "Oops. Sorry. But you know that you'd be great at Arithmancy if you tried."

"Yeah, but Al, that's not the point. I…" I trailed off at the bewildered look on his face. Albus, for all he was my cousin and closest friend, sometimes just didn't 'get' me the way I wished he would. "You know what? Never mind."

I skirted around a classroom door as it was flung open wide, and a trail of students meandered out. I halted my progress when I heard someone call my name.

"Oi, Rose!"

Flipping my long, red waves over one shoulder, I turned to appraise my summoner. Immediately, I spotted the wild dark hair and lightly tanned skin of seventh year Malachi Finnigan.

I instantly struck a flirtatious pose, one hand on my hip. Some guys, you flirt with just for the sake of flirting. Malachi is one of those guys that you flirt with in the hopes of getting semi-naked with him. He's cute. Really cute. "Oi, yourself, Finnigan."

He stopped just a couple of paces short of me, propping himself up against the wall and surveying me with brown eyes a few shades lighter than my own. Mine are the colour of dark chocolate. His are more like coffee with milk. "Break any hearts today, gorgeous?" he teased.

"Why, are you offering?" I grinned at him, my mood definitely on the upswing. His eyes raked me from head to toe appreciatively. My father's genes had left me with cascades of fiery hair and creamy skin. I had my mum's eyes, and a slender but curvaceous build that I wasn't sure which side of my family tree could take credit for. Either way, I know I look good.

"Maybe sometime," Malachi answered, flashing me a grin of his own. "Although I think your cousins would hex me if I tried anything."

As he spoke, James emerged behind him from the same classroom. He raised his ebony eyebrows at me questioningly, a look which I pointedly ignored.

"Let them have a go," I scoffed. "Are you saying it wouldn't be worth it?"

He considered, and apparently decided that it would be worth it, because he leaned close to my ear and whispered, "The astronomy tower at midnight?"

"I might take you up on that." I shot him a wink, and began to walk away.

"Rose?" he called after me. I paused again.

"Yeah?"

"Is that a yes?"

Putting on my best enigmatic smile, I glanced over my shoulder. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Al shook his head ruefully as I strode past him, unhitching himself from the wall where he'd been waiting for me to finish up my conversation. "I will never understand how it is that you do that."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied airily, making a show of examining my fingernails.

"Wrap guys around your little finger with a hair toss and a few choice words."

I raised my eyebrows at my cousin. "Hark who's talking." Albus was the most dateable guy in our year, and by quite a wide margin. Intelligent, handsome and a Quidditch star, he had girls lining up to hang onto his every word. Not to mention the added attraction of his last name.

"Yeah," Al hedged. "But that's different. I don't toy with people's emotions for my own amusement."

That, unfortunately, was the truth. For all his appeal, Al remained fairly shy when it came to the fairer sex. It had taken him until fifth year to work up the nerve to ask Arya Albright to Hogsmeade, and he'd been monogamously dating her ever since.

"You're being all judgemental again," I pointed out. "Why am I not entitled to have a bit of fun?"

"I'm not saying that," he argued, opening the door at the end of the corridor and stepping back to allow me to pass first. Always the gentleman. "I'm just saying… you don't want to end up with a reputation."

I rounded on him, and he flinched under the heat of my glare. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

To his credit, he didn't back down. "I think you know, Rose."

I glared at him for a few more seconds before deciding that I wanted to change the subject. I supposed that I could've ended his judgemental tirade by admitting that – for all my flirting – my virginity was still firmly in my possession, but I didn't bother. It wasn't anyone else's business what I did. And, besides, what was a bit of snogging here and there? It was harmless.

"So, do you know what you're doing for Halloween on Saturday?" I asked as we made our way down the grand staircase. "Are you going to that party in the Slytherin common room?"

Al considered. "Maybe. I'm not sure. Phineas said it would be a laugh, but I heard that Emily Rookwood spiked the drinks with something last year that made everyone grow antlers."

I choked on a laugh. "In that case, you should definitely go. I've always wondered what you'd look like with antlers."

"Ha ha."

We were interrupted by the arrival of a small, pretty brunette. Arya. She flashed me a smile before linking her arm with Al's. He bent slightly to give her cheek a quick kiss. "Hey."

"Hi. Did you guys hear about what happened this morning in Transfiguration?"

"No…" Al arched an eyebrow at her. "What happened?"

"Darius Millingsworth got sent to McGonagall for punching Ryan Thomas. He just lost it, right there in the middle of the classroom, and started beating him black and blue. Nobody knows why."

I was completely diverted by this piece of gossip. "Did he say anything?"

Arya wrinkled her nose, trying to remember. "I don't think so. Nothing intelligible, anyway. He was pretty much incoherent with rage when they carted him out. It took three of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team to tackle him to the ground."

"Is Ryan alright?" Albus checked.

"He had to go to the hospital wing, but I think Madam Pomfrey must've patched him up by now."

We joined the throng of students making their way towards the Great Hall for dinner. A little way ahead, I saw Fred and Molly, heads together in earnest conversation. The pair of them looked like they were plotting something diabolical. Or, maybe that was just an educated guess. When James jogged past us to catch them up, he shot me another warning look, and I knew I'd be in for yet another Potter lecture about Malachi before the day was through. I sighed.

We seated ourselves at the end of the Gryffindor table, slotting into place opposite Alice and an apparently good-as-new Ryan. Albus reached across me for the lamb chops, but I didn't bother loading my plate up just yet. I had more pressing concerns.

"Hey, Ry, what happened in Transfiguration?"

Ryan reminds me a lot of my cousin Fred. They have similar mocha-coloured skin, and the same sense of perpetual optimism about them. Where Fred's black hair is a wildly tangled afro that falls almost to his shoulders, though, Ryan keeps his cropped short. All the better to show off those unusual deep blue eyes.

He smiled at me wearily. "You heard, then?"

"It seems that way." I propped my elbows on the table, resting my chin in my hands as I leaned closer. "Come on, spill. Why would Darius want to knock you into next week? Did you sleep with his girlfriend or something?"

Ryan laughed, shaking his head at me. "Rose, seriously? You think I'd do something like that?"

I chewed my lip, feeling a little embarrassed. "No. Sorry. But then, why?"

"That's the thing." A troubled look crossed his face. "I don't know. It was really strange – I mean he was fine one minute, and the next… totally crazy. I'd say someone cursed him, but I don't know of any curses that could make people just flip like that."

"Maybe he's just gone cray-cray," Alice offered, sipping from her pumpkin juice. I winced when I looked at her. Her eye looked just as angry as it had when I accidentally hit her with my projectile earlier. It was definitely going to leave a mark. "It happens."

I frowned. I'd heard of people going crazy, but never quite so drastically. "Well, I'm not so sure about that. My money would be on the curse theory."

"But, Rose, you heard what Ryan said, there aren't any…"

I cut Alice off. "No, what Ryan said was that he hadn't heard of any curses that could do that. It's still logically possible that there could be. Right?"

Ryan nodded slowly. "I suppose…"

"There you are, then." Satisfied with my sound conclusion, I began ladling mashed potato onto my plate. "I bet McGonagall will get to the bottom of it in no time."

Lily arrived then, sliding into the vacant space beside me. She looked glummer than I'd seen her in a while, staring off at nothing in particular. I laid one hand gently on her shoulder in an attempt to bring her back down to earth. "Lil?"

She jumped. "What? Oh, hey, Rosie." Her face immediately fell back into her previous morose expression.

"What's up?" I leaned closer and lowered my voice, though that wasn't strictly necessary now that the others had engaged themselves in a lively discussion about the upcoming Halloween festivities. "You seem really down."

She pulled a face. Lily could be my sister, with our identical colouring and similar builds. In fact, people have often commented that she looks like the fourteen-year-old version of me. The difference is in our attitudes. I'm snarky and flirty, with a penchant for trouble. Lily, taking something from each of her two namesakes, has a sunny, kind and intriguingly offbeat nature. It was incredibly out of character to see her with a frown on her face.

"I'm okay."

"No, you aren't. You're upset about something. You've got a lousy poker face." I adopted a more sympathetic tone. I usually had trouble with that, but when it came to Lily, it took no effort at all. I'd always been protective of her. "You can tell me anything, you know."

"I know," she said, dredging up a smile that looked as though it took a lot of effort. "But, honestly, I'm okay. You don't need to worry."

Dubious, but accepting that she didn't want to discuss it any further, I gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze and returned to the others' conversation. Arya and Alice were debating what to dress up as, while the boys looked on in amusement.

"Fairies?" Alice suggested.

"Like, the muggle idea, or the real kind? Because we'd need shrinking solution for that…" Arya trailed off, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"I suppose. That'd be a lot of effort. How about vampires? I think I have some white stage makeup in my trunk."

"I think the theme is famous witches and wizards," Ryan chipped in. "I've always wanted to dress up as Gryffindor."

"That's easy, then," Al said, smirking. "I'll just go as my dad."

"You can't do that, that's cheating!" Arya protested, jabbing him in the side. "You won't even need to dress up."

"What? I'll draw a scar on. That counts."

"That does not count, and you know it!"

I watched their good-natured bickering unfold with amusement, pondering my own costume. I was vacillating between Morgana and Cassandra the seer when an idea struck me.

"Hey, Al," I interjected, cutting Arya off mid-flow. "Why don't you dress up as Dumbledore?"

"That," Arya said, shooting me an impressed look. "Is a great idea."

"I suppose I could," Albus agreed, finishing off his last mouthful of food. "I mean, I was named after him and everything. Seems only fitting."

"Or you could go as Snape," Ryan suggested with a grin.

"Sure," Al grinned back. "Just grease my hair up a bit and wear a load of black. Job done."

The pair of them erupted in sniggers, and were still cracking jokes about it as the rest of us finished up our dinner and made our way back to the common room.

The evening played out in pretty much the same routine as it always did. We claimed our corner by the fire, and Alice settled down to do homework while Arya and I snuggled into a couple of armchairs to watch the boys play a mammoth game of chess. We became Al and Ryan's personal cheerleaders respectively, egging them on and suggesting strategic moves in loud voices that couldn't have done much for their concentration. After a while, Alice grew tired of the cacophony, and declared that she was turning in for the night. She disappeared upstairs, half-finished homework in hand.

Not long afterwards, Ryan won the game. He and I broke out into a stupid victory dance that caused the other two to dissolve into hysterics, and they were still laughing as the common room emptied around us. Arya was the next to go to bed, followed by Ryan ten minutes later. That left me and Al.

As a matter of fact, we were the only two people left in the entire common room by that point. I sprawled across my armchair, feet dangling over one end as I twirled a quill between my fingers distractedly. He was stretched out in front of the fire like a cat, staring into the flickering flames, when he said something that jerked me out of my own thoughts.

"Rosie, did you notice how weird Lily was being at dinner?"

I bit my lip. "I did, actually."

"Did she tell you what was wrong with her?"

"No." Putting the quill in my mouth, I sucked on the tip of the peacock feather thoughtfully. "She didn't want to talk about it, and I wasn't going to push her. But she seemed… I don't know. Sad?"

"I wonder… do you reckon it has something to do with a boy?" The grimace on his face told me exactly what his opinion of that possibility was. "Like, maybe some guy has hurt her feelings?"

"It could be," I replied slowly. "I mean, she's dead pretty. It would make sense if she was dating someone."

"I don't like it," Al said darkly. "Especially if that someone has hurt her in any way." He twisted around to face me, his expression hopeful. "Do you think you can get her to talk to you? I'm worried."

"Probably," I admitted. "But even if I did, I'm not sure I'd tell you what she said. I keep Lily's secrets, Al."

"But you'd make sure that whoever it was got what was coming to him, right?"

I fixed him with a Look. I couldn't believe he'd even need to ask me that. "Of course."

He settled back into his original position, pleased with my reassurance. My gaze travelled up to the clock above the mantelpiece, and I swore loudly as I realized what the time was.

"Shit!"

Al swivelled again, a question in his bright green eyes as I jumped to my feet and wobbled on one leg while I attempted to slip my shoes back on.

"What's the matter?"

"I told Malachi I'd meet him at the astronomy tower in fifteen minutes."

His forehead wrinkled in disapproval. "Rose…"

I sighed. "Don't start, Al."

"I just don't think you should be sneaking out to meet some guy at this time of night. I mean, God knows what you'll be doing, if you're caught."

"I resent that. I'm not some slut."

"Well, then, why do you put on a big front that you are?" he challenged. His question caught me off guard, and I found myself feeling suddenly stupid. I didn't really give off that impression, did I?

Instead of answering him, I merely turned on one heel and made my way over to the portrait hole. Before I could vanish through it, I heard his quiet voice once more.

"Be careful, Rosie."

* * *

Miraculously, I made it up to the astronomy tower with ten minutes to spare, and without running into miserly old Filch or his wretched cat. I must've used up my luck quota for the evening, because, while I had made it up there early and undetected, Malachi was nowhere to be found.

The view from the top of the tower was beautiful. The entirety of the grounds could be seen from this vantage point, from the canopy of foliage covering the dense mysteries of the Forbidden Forest right across to where the glassy lake dipped over the horizon. There was something immeasurably peaceful about Hogwarts from up here. The moonlight leached everything of its vibrant colour, turning it a hundred shades of black and silver. In the darkness, there really was a strong sense of magic in the air.

A smooth, deep voice broke the spell. "Waiting for someone?"

My heart lurched into my throat as I whipped around, certain that a teacher was standing behind me. It appeared, though, that I wasn't about to get into trouble. Yep, it was definitely another student who was leaning casually against the wall, arms folded and one leg crossed across the other. I could only make out a tall, lean shadow in the semi-darkness.

"Go away!" I hissed, annoyed at the interruption. "This is my spot."

"I don't see your name on it."

I still couldn't discern the speaker's features, but this time, I recognised the arrogant lilt of the voice. "Malfoy?" I asked, surprised. "Is that you?"

He stepped forwards, and the moonlight threw his features into sharp relief. His stylishly dishevelled blond hair looked white in the dim glow, and his grey eyes seemed impossibly silver. I'd almost forgotten that Malfoy even existed.

His sordid family past meant that he'd spent his time at Hogwarts – and probably outside of it – on the fringes. People tended to give him a wide berth, as though they expected him to become a Death Eater at any second and _avada kedavra_ everyone in sight. I used to feel kind of sorry for him, but he didn't really help himself much, what with his abrasive lack of social skills and perpetual sarcasm.

"What're you doing up here?" I demanded.

"I could ask you the same question. Off for a midnight rendezvous with whoever the new flavour of the week is, are we?"

I felt surprisingly nettled by his derision. "Well, at least I have people who want to spend time with me."

Rather than take offense at my words, he smirked. He made a show of craning his neck in either direction, as though checking to see if anyone was hiding in one of the shadowy corners. "Funny. Looks to me like there's no one else here."

"He's meeting me in a few minutes," I snapped.

"You don't strike me as the kind of girl who likes to be kept waiting." He tilted his head, studying me like I was a particularly interesting specimen in a lab. "Someone special?"

For the first time in months, I felt my cheeks burn, but it had more to do with his blatantly disbelieving tone than it did his words. "None of your damn business, Malfoy. Leave me alone."

"Ah, she's blushing. Must be 'the one'." To my horror, he didn't leave. Instead, he walked forwards a few paces to settle himself on the wide window ledge, one leg bent at the knee. He draped an arm across his knee casually, still looking at me with that twisted amusement. "Who's the lucky guy?"

I clenched my jaw shut with an audible snap. When I spoke, it was through gritted teeth. "Why are you even here?"

He leaned his head back against the wall, like he was planning on sitting there all night. "I come up here sometimes to think. I find that the view's pretty good for when you want to clear your head. It's peaceful. Looking down at the world like this… it's a great way to gain some perspective on things that are bothering you."

It was such a surprisingly honest answer, devoid of his usual snark, that I found myself responding. "Yeah, I get what you mean."

"I had a feeling you might." He stared out of the window, and I used the opportunity to study the clean lines of his profile. With a start, I realised that he was actually fairly good-looking. His angular features suited him – they gave a harder edge to the prettiness of his full mouth, took away the femininity of his absurdly long eyelashes. Okay, forget good-looking, I decided. He was far too handsome for his own good.

Not that his looks had done him much good. They certainly hadn't won him any friends around here. Still, there was something weirdly compelling about him. A sort of dark charisma that made me reluctant to drag my eyes away.

I astonished myself, then, by taking a seat on the ledge beside him. His eyes flickered over to me, a brief smirk flitting across his face.

"What did you come up here to get some perspective on, then?" I pulled my knees up to my chest as I spoke, swivelling so that I was facing him. I rested my chin on my knees as I waited for his answer.

"I was actually hoping to figure a few things out." A slight frown appeared between his eyebrows. "There's something strange happening at school. I guess it started a few days ago. Have you noticed?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Define 'strange', Malfoy. This is Hogwarts."

"People have been acting out of character. It's not subtle, either – it's instantaneous. Like something has blown a completely different personality into them."

"How would you know if people are acting differently?" I asked, employing my usual lack of a verbal filter. "You don't have any friends."

I expected him to flinch, but he didn't. He just turned that silvery grey stare back onto me, wry amusement lurking in his eyes again. "I watch, Rose."

I jumped upon hearing him say my name. There was something almost… bewitching about the way his tongue wrapped around the sounds. I dismissed the ridiculous thought as quickly as it had come. I couldn't afford to be intrigued by Scorpius Malfoy, of all people.

Maybe I was overcompensating, but I packed a hell of a sneer into my next words. "What, like some creepy voyeur?"

He was completely unfazed, yet again. "If that's what you want to believe, I won't stop you."

It took me a second, while I mulled over his words, to realise that I didn't actually believe that. I wasn't sure why Malfoy would observe others, but I knew instinctively that it wasn't for some creepy reason. If I had to guess, I'd say… maybe he was lonely?

Nah. That couldn't be right. Malfoy always acted like he was above the rest of us. He couldn't secretly pine for someone to talk to.

"Okay, so you think there's something strange going on?" I pressed, attempting to get the topic back on track. "Stranger than usual?"

"It's almost like some sort of spell." His voice was measured, thoughtful. Uncharacteristic, from what I knew of him. But then, I allowed, I didn't really know much about him at all.

"Isn't that a bit of a leap?" I said, but no sooner were the words out of my mouth than I remembered the story about Darius flipping out in Transfiguration this morning. Hadn't I written that off as him falling victim to a curse?

Malfoy was studying me again, and he seemed to realise that I'd answered my own question in my head, because he smiled slightly. "Apparently not."

"So, who's behind it?" Against my better judgement, I could feel myself getting reeled in by his theory. I loved a good mystery, and his absorbing demeanour was certainly helping to sell the story.

"That, I don't know," he admitted. "But I intend to find out." He shot me a dry look. "Do you want to help?"

My immediate answer was yes, but I refrained from giving it right away. I widened my eyes in a picture of faux-innocence. "Why so keen? Why do you even want my help? Is this a get-in-my-pants thing?"

He sighed slightly, like I was trying his patience. Apparently, my flirtatious charms were entirely lost on him. I felt disproportionately disgruntled by that. "For all you waste your talent, Rose, you're twice as smart as everyone else in this school. I want your help, because I think that, if anyone can figure something like this out, it'd be you. Provided that you aren't distracted by a shiny object or a guy."

Again, the backhanded compliment cut me much, much deeper than it should've. I didn't know why I cared about his opinion of me, but I couldn't deny that I seemed to. "Well, I'll keep my eye out, when I've got time."

"The school can sleep easy in their beds."

His tone was inflectionless, so I couldn't tell if he was making fun of me or not. I got the feeling that he was, though, and it annoyed me. Beyond the annoyance, there was a stirring of something else. I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

"Rose?"

A movement behind us caused me to look round. Malachi stood in a patch of moonlight, taking in the unlikely scene of me and Malfoy sitting together with raised eyebrows. I jumped up guiltily, though I wasn't exactly sure what I had to feel guilty about.

"Hi! Um, Malfoy was here when I arrived…" I was justifying myself, but again, I wasn't sure why. I could feel Malfoy's eyes on me, and I longed to sneak a peek at his expression, though I couldn't quite bring myself to.

"Okay. Um, do you want to find someplace else to go?" Malachi eyed Malfoy askance, before holding his hand out to me. I thought – though I might've been imagining it – that I heard a slight scoff from behind me as I stepped forward and threaded my fingers through Malachi's.

"Sure." I beamed up at him, and he beamed back, blue eyes full of flirty sparkle. As an afterthought, I turned back to Malfoy. He had gone back to staring out of the window. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

He didn't even glance in my direction as he said, "Consider what we talked about, Rose. You know where to find me."

And, with those parting words, I allowed Malachi to tow me off towards an empty classroom, feeling distinctly more unsettled than I had in as long as I could remember.

* * *

**So, this is a new pet project, just because I really wanted to do something else with the Rose from 'Just Rose'. This won't just be a straight up romance – though I'm not going to deny it will be a big part of it – but there will be an action-based storyline throughout as well. **

**As always, I welcome any reviews. **

**PJ**

**x**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Two_**

I still don't know what possessed me to do it. Maybe all those late nights have finally driven me crazy. All I know is that when I strode into Potions the next day and saw the messy blond hair of Scorpius Malfoy at the back of the room, I found myself heading straight for him like he had his own gravitational pull.

I could feel everyone else's eyes burning into me as I slammed my bag down on the tiny bit of available table space – Malfoy tended to spread his books out across the double desk, because he knew that nobody else would bother sitting next to him. He glanced up at my approach, and his eyes widened infinitesimally – the only outward sign of his surprise.

"Is this seat taken?" I asked, and dropped onto the stool before he had a chance to answer me. There was an outbreak of muttering at my back, but I swivelled in my chair so that the only thing I could see was Malfoy watching me with that amused silver gaze of his.

"This isn't going to go down well with your friends," he commented lightly. "You have a reputation to uphold."

"I don't give a damn," I countered, although, now that I was sitting down, I realised that I did. Already, the stares and the whispers were beginning to get to me, setting my teeth on edge. I wondered if this was a brief glimpse into what it was like to be Malfoy. It wasn't fun.

He tilted his head, studying me carefully. "Yes, you do. You're their queen… their idol, really. The court of public opinion is one that you don't ever want to be convicted in." Leaning his forearms on the desk, he inclined himself towards me, until there were only a few inches separating us. "I'd be willing to bet that you spend most nights lying awake in your dormitory, stressing yourself sleepless over everyone else's opinions and expectations. No matter how blasé you are in waking hours, you_ care_, Rose."

I flinched. What was he, a mind-reader? How else could he have guessed something that nobody, not even Albus, knew? I brushed it off, tossing my hair over one shoulder and turning the full wattage of my sultry smile onto him. "And I bet you lie awake at night imagining me in my bed, right? Or maybe yours…"

Now, that would've been a pretty good opening for most guys to get a couple of crude jokes in. Maybe even proposition me outright. But Malfoy's eyes just flickered over me, once, and his smirk seemed to falter a little. In fact, he was looking at me like… like I'd failed some test that I didn't even know I was taking.

"What?" I snapped, lowering my voice so that the people ear-wigging from the next table over couldn't hear the frustration that leaked into my tone. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I've let you down somehow."

"Oh, Rose." He sighed. "You're a smart girl. Figure it out."

That cryptic statement drew a frown from me, but before I had the chance to reply, an incredulous voice sounded just above my left ear. "Rosie, what the hell are you_ doing_?"

Malfoy's smirk flashed briefly across his face, and he suddenly became very interested in a page of his copy of Advanced Potion Making. I gritted my teeth and turned to face Al's thunderous expression.

"Waiting for Professor Coldwater to get here?" I suggested flippantly.

"You know that's not what I meant." His eyes flickered over to Malfoy, who was still patently ignoring the pair of us. In fact, it sounded as though he was humming quietly to himself. "Why are you sitting with_ him_?"

"Why not?" I challenged. Malfoy may have been right – I did care what people thought about me. It did cause me sleepless nights. But I'd be damned if I was going to let the sheep dictate the shepherd's behaviour. Not that Al was really one of my sheep, but the principle still applied. "Coldwater says we need to have partners. You'll be with Ryan, anyway."

"That," Al said heavily. "Is not the point." He dropped his voice so low that even Malfoy, the closest person to us, wouldn't be able to hear. "Do you really want to be caught sitting with that wannabe Death Eater?"

"Al," I hissed. "Don't say stuff like that. Don't be like the rest of them."

He didn't respond, but he looked a little bit guilty. Instead of continuing to give me a hard time, he gave me an I-hope-you-know-what-you're-doing look, and settled himself on the table across the aisle from us. I could feel him stealing covert glances every couple of seconds, as though he expected Malfoy to rise up out of his chair and _crucio_ me.

"I'm not winning any friends with this arrangement," Malfoy pointed out.

"It's not like you had any to lose," I replied, and this actually elicited a chuckle from him.

"So, tell me, Rose…" Malfoy turned to face me again, resting one foot on the bar of my stool. He was reclined away from me, his head resting against the wall, and yet he still somehow managed to be invading both my eye line and my personal space. It was oddly impressive. "Why the sudden downward social mobility? Seemed like you didn't really want much to do with me, last night."

His voice was just loud enough that the people nearest – a group of Ravenclaws – perked up to listen.

"Call it morbid curiosity," I muttered dryly, and was rewarded with a fleeting smile that completely transformed his face. 'Handsome' no longer did him justice as a descriptor.

"_You_ are very entertaining," he admitted. I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not, so I said nothing. That was another unusual thing about Malfoy. I was always ready with a retort, but something about him made me inexplicably tongue-tied.

"And…" I grappled around for an excuse that would seem plausible. "I wanted to talk to you some more about your theory. You know, the one about people getting body-snatched."

"Oh, I thought you meant the_ other_ theory." Sarcasm dripped from his tone, and I narrowed my eyes at him in annoyance. Perversely, my ire seemed to please him all the more. "I'm not going to talk about that here."

"Why not?"

"Because," he began, lips twitching. "You never know who might be listening."

I was on the verge of telling him to stop being so paranoid when I reconsidered. What if someone really was cursing students? Could that person be one of our peers? Of course, this was all still quite a far-fetched idea to me, but it was enough to make me wonder.

"Fine."

"I will, however, tell you that I've been doing some research. And I'm embellishing my theory."

"But you aren't going to tell me what that research involves?"

"Right."

I sighed. Malfoy was unbelievably frustrating. Why taunt me with the possibility of more information, and then take it away just as quickly? Answer; because he_ could_. "Why bring it up at all, then?"

"I didn't. You brought it up, actually." He scooted his chair slightly closer, and I caught a faint whiff of some aftershave that smelled amazing. I'd bet it was expensive. "But I'll make you a deal, Weasley. I'll fill you in on everything I've found out at the astronomy tower this evening. Midnight."

A midnight meeting with Malfoy? At the astronomy tower? On_ purpose_? He'd lost his mind! "If you think I'm going to meet you up there, you've got another thing coming."

His lips twitched into that perpetual smirk of his. "Okay. Don't say I didn't offer."

At that point, Professor Coldwater arrived, and he spent the next hour and a half lecturing us on the twelve uses of dragon's blood. I took notes, for once, but only so as not to catch Malfoy's eye by accident. Shocking me further, Malfoy took notes, too. Detailed ones. Almost like he took them all the time.

Reading some of his annotations on the sly, I noticed that he'd made additions and side-notes around each of the dragon's blood uses – additions that the professor hadn't even mentioned. For the first time, it occurred to me that Malfoy, under all the glib humour and general unpleasantness, was actually very intelligent. Maybe more so than me. He definitely paid more attention than I did.

I could barely concentrate on what Coldwater was saying, because I kept harping back to Malfoy's offer. My curiosity was piqued, and I desperately wanted to know what he'd found out. When Coldwater dismissed us, I sucked up the last of my pride and took a deep, steeling breath.

"Alright."

"I'm sorry?" Malfoy paused, halfway through trying to cram some of his notes into his already over-full bag.

"I said, 'alright'. I'll meet you later."

There was that damn smirk again. "I knew you would change your mind." He managed to stuff the notes into his bag and bent down close enough for the breath that carried his next words to stir my hair. "See you at midnight."

He left without a backwards glance. It took me a couple of minutes to stop shivering enough to finish packing my books away.

* * *

"Malfoy?" Al exploded, unable to contain himself any longer. I was actually impressed that he'd kept his indignation bottled up until we'd reached the Great Hall. "Seriously?"

"What's this?" Arya climbed onto the bench between us, sensing the need to be a buffer. I appreciated her intuitiveness. "What about Malfoy?"

Ryan grinned into his ham sandwich. "Rosie was sitting with Malfoy in Potions. Apparently, they're friends now."

Arya whirled on me, big blue eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "What?!"

I shot Ryan a glare. "We're _not_ friends." Picking up my fork, I toyed with a limp piece of bacon on my plate for a moment before continuing. "I just partnered with him. Nobody else was going to."

"What's he_ like_?" Arya whispered. For all everyone avoided Malfoy like spattergroit, he was still an object of reluctant fascination and fear for the masses. Girls, in particular. Even pariahs were still noticed by the opposite sex if they were pretty enough. And, as much as I was loathe to admit it, Malfoy was definitely pretty enough.

"He's…" Obnoxious. Arrogant. Condescending. Infuriating. A thousand words flashed through my head, none of them flattering. So I was kind of surprised at the one I settled with. "Compelling."

"Compelling?" Al echoed, arching an eyebrow at me. "In what way? Dear God, Rosie, if you're like,_ into_ him, I might just…"

"No!" I snapped, aghast. "Of course not! He's compelling in the way that watching a car crash in slow motion would be compelling." This drew sniggers from my friends. "But other than that… I don't see the big deal about him, to be honest. He's just a sixteen year old boy."

"Just a sixteen year old boy whose father is Death Eater scum," Ryan said nastily, in a very carrying whisper.

I opened my mouth to berate him – after all, my mum had raised me to be above prejudices… drilled it into me, more like – and froze. Ryan's comment had just been uttered at the most inopportune moment imaginable. Malfoy himself was passing the Gryffindor table (which I thought was pretty strange, considering that the Slytherin one was on the opposite side of the hall) and had stopped to stare at the back of Ryan's head incredulously.

At least, incredulous was how I would've described his expression. It wasn't angry, not exactly, but almost taken aback. I didn't know why he'd be taken aback by the comment – it wasn't as though he wasn't used to it. His grey eyes met my brown ones, and, bizarrely, he smiled.

Before I could even begin to fathom what he could possibly have found amusing about his father's name getting dragged – yet again – through the mud, he'd turned his back and disappeared off in the direction of the Slytherins. Nobody else seemed to have even noticed his presence in the first place.

All thoughts of Malfoy were driven out of my head when the Hufflepuff table suddenly erupted. And, when I say erupted, I mean it. Think Pompeii. Multiplied by ten. I just caught a glimpse of a fourth year – Ned Creevey, if I wasn't mistaken – launching himself across the table at one of his unsuspecting classmates, before a crowd converged on them both, as people frantically tried to pull them apart.

I knew Ned, in an acquaintance kind of way – Uncle Harry was friendly with his father, Dennis – and not once would I ever suspect him of being the violent type. The fact that he had been sorted into Hufflepuff more or less confirmed my assumptions about his character. Therefore, seeing him attempting to knock lumps out of one of his friends – a friend he'd been chatting to not a minute previously – was a shock.

"What the hell has gotten into everyone?" Arya exclaimed, as we watched Hagrid rise clumsily from the staff table and wade out into the commotion. "First Darius, and now that Creevey kid…"

Al shrugged, slinging a comforting arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. "I don't know, Arya. It's okay, don't worry, I'm sure McGonagall will sort it out."

"Like she sorted out Darius?" I muttered. We'd all heard Darius's version of the events of yesterday by now. He claimed he had no idea what had caused him to flip out at Ryan, and he'd been shouting apologies at him when they passed in the corridors all morning. Ryan had accepted the first one with good grace, but it didn't seem to be enough to assuage Darius's guilt over the matter. It probably didn't help that he'd not been punished severely for what he'd done. McGonagall had let him off fairly lightly with a week's worth of detention, apparently buying his rage blackout story.

"Yeah, well…"

Professor Longbottom – Uncle Neville, to me – had just jogged into the fray in order to lend Hagrid a hand. It seemed that the half-giant was actually having trouble restraining skinny little Ned; he thrashed wildly in his arms like an enraged animal, letting out howls and snarls that didn't even sound like words.

I felt someone's gaze on me, and glanced up to find Malfoy watching with a darkly significant look on his face. He mouthed 'midnight', and I nodded back.

"Rose?"

"Huh?"

I blinked, tearing my gaze away from the Slytherin table, to find Malachi Finnigan sitting on the bench beside me. Had he been there the whole time? The expectant looks on my friends' faces indicated that he probably hadn't. I grinned when I remembered the hot-and-heavy make-out session last night.

"Are you okay?" Malachi pressed, frowning. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"Oh," I brushed my hair back from my face, throwing him a winning smile. "Nah, I'm fine. Just trying to see what all the fuss is about."

"With me, or the fight?" he teased.

"The fight." I leaned closer, laying one hand on his arm. "I already know what all the fuss is about with you."

He laughed, blue eyes glittering. "Good. Because I was wondering if maybe you'd be interested in a repeat performance tonight?"

Interested? Hell yes. But I already had an appointment, and considering what had just happened with Ned, I didn't want to reschedule. "I can't tonight… I've got plans. Rain check?"

"I'll do you one better," he offered. "Hogsmeade. Saturday."

"If you take me to Madam Puddifoot's, I'll hex you," I warned. He chuckled, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Three Broomsticks. I promise."

"You might just have yourself a date, then."

He chucked my chin lightly – an action that I couldn't make up my mind whether it was endearing or annoying – and returned to his own friends at the opposite end of the Gryffindor table, a definite swagger in his step. The guys he'd been sitting with immediately converged on him, making several obscene gestures that brought a grin to my face. Nice to know I was appreciated.

Al, on the other hand, had a different opinion. He was glaring ominously down the table at Malachi and the other seventh years, wand arm twitching. Remembering that his mother had taught him how to perform a bat bogey hex, I leaned across Arya and poked him in the side.

"Let's go and spend the rest of lunch outside, shall we? It's such a nice day."

* * *

At exactly one minute to midnight, I arrived at the top of the astronomy tower. Again, I was feeling fairly smug about my ability to evade both Al's questions and Filch's night-time wanderings. Malfoy, naturally, was already there, sitting in almost the same position as I'd left him in last night. He looked ghostly in the moonlight, right up until he shot me his patented twisted smirk.

"You're very nearly late."

"I'm actually a minute early," I replied. Emboldened by the fact that I'd managed to survive an entire Potions double-period sitting beside him without incident, I didn't hesitate to reclaim my perch from the night before. Instead of hunching into a ball, this time, I stretched out my long legs beside his, crossing them at the ankle. I could feel the heat of his skin through the thin layer of his school trousers against my tights.

"No date with Finnigan tonight, then?"

"None of your business."

"Fair enough."

We lapsed into silence, but it wasn't entirely uncomfortable. A niggling question that I'd shoved aside in my head at lunch suddenly resurfaced.

"Scorpius?"

Smirk. "Yes, Rose?"

I was momentarily diverted from my original question by the sudden warmth of his usually dry tone. "What's so funny?"

"You called me 'Scorpius'."

"That's your name, isn't it?" I retorted, somewhat defensively.

"It is. I just don't think anyone here has ever called me by my first name."

"Oh." I didn't quite know what to say to that. "Would you rather I didn't?"

"No, it's fine. I call you by your first name, after all." His eyes met mine, and I broke the contact quickly as nervous prickles crept across my skin. _Weird_.

"What was I saying?" I mumbled, embarrassed to realise that I'd completely lost track of my thoughts.

"I don't know. You only got as far as 'Scorpius'."

"Don't interrupt me, then." He grinned, spreading his hands to yield the floor to me. I pondered for a moment, before I suddenly had a flash of insight. "Oh. Right. Well, yeah… today, at lunchtime…"

"Is this about the fight?"

I glared. "I told you not to interrupt me."

"So you did."

"Yeah, so, at lunchtime…"

"Creevey really went for Waller, didn't he? I wouldn't be surprised if his father pressed charges. He's a muggle lawyer, you know."

"Scorpius!"

"Look at that. I did it again."

"Anyway… you know when you were walking past the…"

"Do you reckon that muggle laws like GBH actually hold any standing in the Wizengamot?" He looked close to laughter at the outraged expression I was no doubt wearing over having been cut off for the fourth time. "Oops. And again. I bet that's really annoying for you, isn't it?"

"_You_ are really annoying," I grumbled. His smirk was so big it looked like it might actually crack his face in two. "Like I was saying, at lunchtime…"

"You said that part twice already." My jaw shut with an audible snap as I fumed at him. He chuckled softly. "I'll stop. I promise."

"Why did you smile at me?" I blurted, before he could butt in again.

"When? Just now?"

"At_ lunchtime_." I snarled the words through gritted teeth. "When you overheard Ryan saying… well, you know…"

"Calling my father Death Eater scum?" he supplied unflinchingly. This time, I was actually grateful for his interjection, so I didn't snap at him for it.

"Well, yeah."

"You don't have to walk on eggshells around me. I don't care what Thomas thinks of my father. I don't much care what anyone thinks. As for why I smiled at you… it amused me that you were talking about me, that's all."

"I wasn't talking about you," I protested. My cheeks felt hot all of a sudden. "Arya and Albus were jumping all over me for sitting beside you in Potions and I was defending my actions."

"Ah. And your defence was that I'm just too compelling to avoid?" He leaned forwards slightly. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that was a flirtatious glint in his eye. And I did know better – right?

"You heard that part?"

"I might've."

I suddenly didn't know where to look. I seemed to have left all of the usual Rose Weasley bravado in my dormitory along with my common sense. I gave myself a mental shake. "Well, did you happen to hear the part where I said you're like watching a car crash in slow motion?"

"I did, actually." Scorpius looked as though he was actively trying not to smile now, but he was failing miserably. "I suppose that ties in with the whole 'morbid curiosity' thing?"

"You suppose correctly."

"You know that's kind of offensive?" he remarked, but he didn't sound offended in the slightest.

"Personally, I think you should take it as a compliment. At least I'm able to admit that I'm exhibiting _some_ kind of curiosity towards you."

His silvery eyes sparkled impishly. "You're right. How brave."

"It is, actually."

"I'd bet all the money in my father's safe that you won't be 'brave' enough to admit to your friends that you've been hanging out with me this evening." His expression was a total dare, and I felt the reckless part of me – which, let's face it, was most of me – responding to it.

"How much money is that, exactly?"

"A lot." He pushed a stubborn strand of blond hair away from his eyes, pressing his lips together in another transparent attempt to hide a smile. "But you won't do it, no matter how much money I bet on it."

Sheepishly, I had to acknowledge that he was right. Whether he dared me to or not, no way was I going to tell my friends – one of whom was also my cousin, and Al couldn't keep a secret to save his life – that I'd spent the night sitting in the astronomy tower with a Malfoy. "Well, you know that discretion is meant to be the better part of valour anyway, right?"

He actually laughed. Not a sarcastic chuckle. A genuine laugh that made me feel weirdly warm inside. For someone so bitterly twisted, he had a really great laugh.

"Oh, Rose…" He shook his head indulgently. "You really don't get enough credit for your wit."

"What are you talking about? I get plenty. Guys are always telling me how funny I am."

He gave me a_ Look_. You know, one of those oh-honey-bless-your-heart looks that people give you when you're being exceptionally dense. "They might say it to your face, but of all the things I've heard about you – and I've heard plenty, despite the fact that nobody speaks to me directly – not one guy has mentioned you being funny. They've described what you look like naked in graphic detail, but…"

"They _what_?" I sat upright so suddenly that I nearly slid off the window ledge. "Who talked about me naked? None of them have ever even seen me naked! Not properly, at least."

He gave me another pitying look that somehow made me feel like I wanted to cry. Or scream. Maybe both. "I believe you. I really do. But… most of the school seems to be under the impression that you've shagged half the guys in our year. Your reputation as an easy party girl, just or not, has kind of got a lot of circumstantial evidence to back it up."

"What, because I like a drink? Or because I flirt with guys?"

"Well, both. And because… well…"

"Well_ what_?"

He shrugged. "Look, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but you don't really seem to have a lot of respect for yourself."

That was possibly the meanest thing anyone had ever said to me. I struggled to keep my temper under control, but had to look away before he noticed the angry tears springing up in my eyes. "Oh. Ever considered that maybe I've just been a bit naive about the way guys exaggerate and embellish the occasional hook-up?"

"Rose." Scorpius leaned forwards, and I jumped when I felt his fingers gently grasping my chin. He tugged my face back round, so that I was forced to look him in the eye. His gaze was surprisingly kind. "I don't for one second think that you're naive. I do think, however, that you're trying really hard to forge an identity out from under your mother's shadow. I'm probably the only person who isn't scared to tell you this to your face, so listen up; you aren't going the right way about it. You're a person, in your own right, and a pretty awesome one at that. You don't need to act all reckless to prove yourself."

Something about his words – or maybe it was the way his eyes were smouldering at me – made me catch my breath. Still, I didn't like the lecture. "Isn't Draco Malfoy your dad?"

He gave me a wry smile. "So my mother tells me."

"Well, then, how can you possibly tell me all of that bullshit when you're doing the exact same thing? Isn't your snarky, brooding loner thing just another way of getting out from under your dad's shadow?"

"No, the 'snarky, brooding loner thing' as you put it, is out of necessity, not choice. I mean, the snark is a choice, I suppose. But I have no control over the ostracism." The tiniest hint of bitterness crept into his voice, and for the first time, I found myself really, truly empathising with Scorpius Malfoy. "The difference between the two of us is that I know who I am. I like who I am, and I don't give a shit what anyone else thinks. I'm not my old man. I don't need to go around handing out hugs and daisies to everyone in order to be sure of that. And you don't need to flirt with every guy you see and break every rule set out for you, probably damaging your own credibility in the process."

"Well," I mumbled. "Then what's to set me apart from my mum? I'm just another brainy, bucktoothed Granger without all the rule-breaking and flirting." I think Scorpius knew what it took for me to admit that, because his eyes widened slightly in astonishment. Then, abruptly, he grinned, showing off dimples I didn't even know he had until I saw them up close.

"You aren't bucktoothed," he half-laughed, though he sounded exasperated. "You're gorgeous."

Well, knock me down with a feather. He seemed to realise what he'd just said, because he cleared his throat awkwardly and released my chin, leaning back against the wall once more. My heart was hammering in my chest like crazy, and I couldn't begin to pinpoint exactly why.

It wasn't being called 'gorgeous'. That was nothing new. Everyone told me that. Maybe it was because it sounded so unlikely coming from Malfoy? No, that wasn't it, either. I watched him in silence for a few seconds. The way he'd just spoken to me had shocked me to my core, not in the least because he'd somehow seen right through my pretences and touched on insecurities I'd buried deep inside me long ago. It wasn't the compliment. It was_ him_, I realised. He understood me, without me needing to explain. He flustered me. I could still feel the phantom echo of his fingertips on my chin.

My stomach gave a nervous sort of somersault that felt foreign to me. I didn't think I'd ever experienced the sensation before. I remembered, once, Arya and I had a totally awkward conversation where she told me that she felt all fluttery and nervous whenever she saw Al. She said that's what it felt like when you really liked a guy. I'd been out with plenty of them, by then, and I'd never felt anything of the sort. It was only now that I realised what she'd been describing.

Oh, shit. This could _not_ be happening. I could not be getting butterflies over _Malfoy_.

And yet, somehow, that was exactly what was going on.

"Rose?" Scorpius was frowning at me – unsurprising, seeing as I was staring at him like I'd never seen him before in my life. Truthfully, I hadn't. Not like this. "You alright? I guess I really know how to kill a conversation stone dead, don't I?"

I laughed, but the sound came out all mangled in light of the major epiphany going on inside my head. "It's fine. I mean, I'm fine. What were we talking about?"

Another smirk. Instead of being annoying, this one sent my stomach into another somersault. "I was telling you to drop your whole 'easy, party girl' persona. Then I told you that you're gorgeous, and you got all weird."

The boy was shameless! "Right. That's… yeah. Let's skip past that, shall we?"

"If you'd prefer." He straightened slightly, and suddenly became all business. "So, at lunchtime, Creevey went batshit crazy. Millingsworth did yesterday. Sophie Avery was the same on Tuesday…"

"I didn't hear about that." I was profoundly grateful for the less dangerous topic, and I jumped on it with a little more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary. His raised eyebrows told me that Scorpius noticed. "What happened there?"

"She cut off Emmaline Wilkes's ponytail with a severing charm in the middle of class."

"Why?"

Scorpius shrugged. "Jealous rage, apparently. Emmaline stole Sophie's boyfriend. Well, 'stole' is probably the wrong word. He chucked Sophie for her."

"And that sort of outburst is uncharacteristic for Sophie?"

He arched an eyebrow at me. "It's uncharacteristic for anyone with half a brain."

_Good point_. "I just meant – she's not the 'revenge' type?"

"Nah, Soph's about as mellow as they come. Nice girl, actually. She's one of the few Slytherins who actually says hello to me in the common room." He said it matter-of-factly, but I felt a pang of sympathy that I couldn't quite control. "It's all very strange."

Without another word, he swung his legs over the side of the ledge and jumped down in a smooth, graceful motion that I couldn't help but track with my eyes.

"Where are you going?" I demanded.

"Back to my dormitory. It's late."

"You said you had some more information about what's going on!" I protested, feeling scandalised.

"I did say that, didn't I?" Scorpius looked like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "Oh, well."

He turned to walk away.

"Hey, hang on a minute!" I hopped down from the window swiftly, half-jogging to catch him up. Reaching for his arm, I spun him around, my fingers vice-like around the lean muscle of his forearm. He regarded me with relish. "You can't just leave!"

"No?"

"No! You haven't told me anything, yet!"

"On the contrary, I've told you plenty."

"Not about what I came here for!" I glared up into his mercury eyes, trying my best to look intimidating. A lesser man would've quailed under the heat of my stare. Unfortunately, Scorpius Malfoy had already proved nigh on impossible to intimidate.

"Well, I guess you'll just have to meet me up here after the weekend, and I'll tell you the rest."

"Scorpius! You're blackmailing me, you realise?"

"'Blackmail' is such an ugly word, Freckles…"

Freckles? "_Malfoy_."

"Monday. Same time." He tugged his arm gently from my grip, turning back down the corridor with a swish of his robes. I gaped at his retreating back in disbelief.

"I won't meet you again!" I yelled peevishly after him. "Not even if you paid me!"

"Then I guess you'll never know…" he called over his shoulder, before he disappeared around the corner. He was completely engulfed by the shadows, leaving nothing but the echo of his knowing laughter behind him.

* * *

**A/N – Thank you to my reviewers so far! Just a quick question – do you think I should do a bit of Scorpius POV in this story, or just stick with Rose? I'm undecided between the two. **

**Thanks for reading!**

**PJ**

**x**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N – This is an OUTTAKE. It's not actually a part of the story (Well, it is, but it's a part you've already heard before) This is the little glimpse into Scorpius's brain that I'm going to give you, just so you can understand him a bit better. **

**So, here it is. Scorpius's POV of the astronomy tower scene with Rose in chapter 2.**

* * *

_Compelling. Like watching a train wreck in slow motion._

I chuckled to myself as I stared out of the window, waiting for Rose to show her face. Honestly, I wasn't a hundred percent sure that she was even going to bother showing up. That girl was nothing if not unpredictable. The last six years, she'd served as my daily entertainment in whatever lessons we had together. I used to play a game whenever I was bored, which, frankly, was fairly often. I called it 'Guess-what-Rose-Weasley-will-do-next'. I never could. I was good at reading people, exceptionally so, but she was hard to get a lock on.

I think that's probably why I find her so fascinating.

_Fascinating. Like one of those man-eating tropical flowers. Beautiful, intriguing and deadly._

It was definitely apt, though not nearly as funny as the way she'd described me at lunch. I didn't know what had possessed me to walk past her table – it was completely unnecessary – but it was worth it, just to hear the train-wreck analogy. Rose has a real way with words.

As if mere thought could conjure her out of thin air, she suddenly appeared at the end of the corridor, breathless and looking extremely pleased with herself. I felt my lips tug upwards at the sight of her – an involuntary reaction I'd long since given up trying to fight.

"You're very nearly late."

"I'm actually a minute early," she told me, flipping her curtain of red hair over one shoulder in that way she always did to ensure a guy's eyes followed her every movement. She needn't have bothered, ninety percent of the time. Rose draws gazes like wool draws a static charge. It's just her nature.

Well, that, and her killer curves.

She crossed the room and slid onto the wide window ledge beside me. I expected her to curl up into a tense little ball like she did last night, but apparently she'd decided not to be uncomfortable around me anymore, because she made a show of stretching out her legs beside mine – again, I suspected, trying to pull my focus into admiring her some more. I refused to feed her ego, and kept my gaze firmly trained on the window, though I could feel the heat of her in the half inch of space that separated us.

"No date with Finnigan tonight, then?" I asked, fighting to keep the distaste from my tone. Finnigan, like so many of the others, had about as much respect for women as a mountain troll. He probably had the manners to match. Oh, I'm sure he was nice enough to Rose to her face, but I'd heard the pornographic tales he regaled his friends with behind her back. Everyone had.

"None of your business." Except Rose, apparently. Was she just unaware of the gossip that spread like Fiendfyre about her, or did she not care? If it was the latter, I envied her thick skin.

"Fair enough." I shrugged.

Silence ensued, and I watched her covertly out of the corner of my eye. She looked as though she was about ready to burst with some question, but I could tell she didn't want to be the one to break the silence. Everything with the opposite sex, no matter how innocuous, seemed to be a game to her, and she hated to lose.

Too bad. I wasn't giving in first.

"Scorpius?"

_I win_. A smirk of victory crept across my face. "Yes, Rose?"

My smirk widened when I realised she'd called me by my first name. I'd almost forgotten I had one; it had been so long since anyone used it. Not that that bothered me – I didn't know what the hell my mother had been thinking, calling me 'Scorpius'. Ah, well, it didn't sound too awful in Rose's soft, husky voice.

She was watching me through narrowed eyes. "What's so funny?"

"You called me 'Scorpius'," I explained.

"That's your name, isn't it?" _Ooh. Someone's getting defensive_. Defensive looked good on her. Not a surprise. Everything else did.

"It is. I just don't think anyone here has ever called me by my first name." It occurred to me that I might actually sound like I was going for a sympathy vote there. The thought almost made me shudder. The only thing worse than scorn was pity. Pity was for the weak.

"Oh. Would you rather I didn't?" Her nose wrinkled. _Cute_.

I met her gaze evenly. "No, it's fine. I call you by your first name, after all."

She looked back into my eyes for longer than was strictly necessary, and I had the feeling that she'd completely forgotten what she was going to say. She proved me right a second later. "What was I saying?"

"I don't know. You only got as far as 'Scorpius'," I teased. I_ love_ teasing Rose. She's always such a hellcat, spitting fire at the world with every word that rolls off her sharp tongue. I like to poke her and watch the sparks fly.

"Don't interrupt me, then," she snapped. I smiled calmly, spreading my palms for her to go right ahead. "Oh. Right. Well, yeah… today, at lunchtime…"

I couldn't resist interrupting her again. "Is this about the fight?"

Flashing dark eyes narrowed in my direction. "I told you not to interrupt me."

"So you did," I acknowledged pleasantly.

"Yeah, so, at lunchtime…"

"Creevey really went for Waller, didn't he? I wouldn't be surprised if his father pressed charges. He's a muggle lawyer, you know." Two for two. My mother always warned me never to poke a sleeping dragon, but what can I say? I live life on the edge.

"Scorpius!" she growled. Her anger was actually weirdly endearing. She clearly thought she was much more intimidating than she actually was, kind of like the way a hissing kitten thinks it's scary.

"Look at that." It was just so easy! "I did it again."

"Anyway…" she continued, throwing me a look of censure. "You know when you were walking past the…"

_What the hell, I might as well throw in another one._ "Do you reckon that muggle laws like GBH actually hold any standing in the Wizengamot?" I bit back a laugh with a great deal of effort upon seeing the utter fury on her face. Her mouth was actually hanging open. "Oops. And again. I bet that's really annoying for you, isn't it?"

"_You_ are really annoying," she mumbled, recovering her voice again. The grin on my face was actually beginning to hurt. I didn't think I'd smiled that much in, well,_ ever_. "Like I was saying, at lunchtime…"

One more interruption couldn't hurt.

"You said that part twice already." Suddenly afraid that she'd actually storm off in a rage, I held up my hands. "I'll stop. I promise."

"Whydidyousmileatme?" The question came out of her mouth in a mega-fast splurge, and I choked on another laugh as I realised she was trying to get it all out before I could cut across her again.

I knew what she was referring to, but I decided to play dumb just for kicks. "When? Just now?"

"At_ lunchtime_." Hissing-kitten-anger once more. She really was far too adorable for her own good. "When you overheard Ryan saying… well, you know…" She trailed off, apparently unable to say the insult aloud. That didn't really surprise me. She might've talked a big game, but Rose was hiding a big heart under all the layers of bravado.

I had no such qualms, however. "Calling my father Death Eater scum?"

"Well, yeah."

"You don't have to walk on eggshells around me. I don't care what Thomas thinks of my father. I don't much care what anyone thinks. As for why I smiled at you…" _Because I find it pretty much impossible to look at you without smiling_, I thought. Instead of saying that – after all, I couldn't really afford to have 'creepy stalker' added to my stigmatic label collection; 'Son of a Death Eater' was bad enough – I went with something that I knew would trip her up. "It amused me that you were talking about me, that's all."

"I wasn't talking about you," she denied, though there was little point in the denial, because she knew I'd heard her. "Arya and Albus were jumping all over me for sitting beside you in Potions and I was defending my actions."

Wait, was she blushing? I didn't think she embarrassed that easily. I'd certainly never seen any of her arm candy elicit a blush from her. I felt strangely pleased with myself. Of course, that was ridiculous. It wasn't like she was blushing because of me as a person.

Unless, was she? I decided to test the theory. Leaning forwards, I attempted what I thought flirtatious eye contact looked like. Truthfully, I was just emulating the way I'd often seen her behave. I hoped I pulled it off. "Ah. And your defence was that I'm just too compelling to avoid?"

Her blush intensified, and if I wasn't mistaken, there was a slight widening of her eyes. "You heard that part?"

"I might've." I grinned again.

She glanced around the room, looking helpless and flustered, something that I'd never seen her look like before. It surprised me how much I enjoyed the effect. Speechless with rage wasn't nearly as satisfying as_ this_.

"Well, did you happen to hear the part where I said you're like watching a car crash in slow motion?" She rallied. I knew it wouldn't take her long.

"I did, actually." I pressed my lips together in an attempt to stop my smile, and I think I probably failed. I recalled our conversation in Potions – I nearly keeled over in shock when she came and sat next to me this morning; it took all my efforts to hold it together. "I suppose that ties in with the whole 'morbid curiosity' thing?"

"You suppose correctly." Her curt answer was accompanied with a slight smile that sort of ruined the intended effect. Call me crazy, but it actually seemed like she wasn't hating talking to me. Call me crazier still, but it seemed like she was kind of enjoying herself.

"You know that's kind of offensive?"

She sniffed, tossing her hair again. She had that move down to an art. I swear, if they bottled Rose Weasley's sexual magnetism and sold it on the black market, the wizarding world would have a weapon of mass destruction on their hands. "Personally, I think you should take it as a compliment. At least I'm able to admit that I'm exhibiting some kind of curiosity towards you."

_Touché_. "You're right. How brave."

"It is, actually."

"I'd bet all the money in my father's safe that you won't be 'brave' enough to admit to your friends that you've been hanging out with me this evening." Her chin came up in response to the implied challenge in my words, dark eyes glittering in the moonlight.

"How much money is that, exactly?"

"A lot. But you won't do it, no matter how much money I bet on it."

I saw her genuinely consider it for a moment. Before, I'd said that she was difficult to read, but when I was staring directly into her eyes, I could practically see the cogs turning in her head as she weighed the potential familial fallout versus proving me wrong. I saw the exact moment that she decided I was right.

I felt a little disappointed, for no reason I could grasp. It wasn't as though I actually expected a different conclusion from her.

"Well, you know that discretion is meant to be the better part of valour anyway, right?"

I couldn't help the laugh that tore its way from my throat, then. A real one, too, one that I hadn't used in years – not since my dad was cleaning out the cellar and accidentally tripped over a box before flying headfirst into a pile of Grandma's wedding hats (He'd looked particularly fetching in the floral bonnet than managed to land precisely on his head).

"Oh, Rose…" I chuckled, shaking my head in an attempt to clear it. "You really don't get enough credit for your wit."

"What are you talking about? I get plenty. Guys are always telling me how funny I am."

I realised my mistake as soon as I'd made it. My earlier question had been answered – she really didn't know what was said about her behind her back. I sort of felt a responsibility for cluing her in, now, though I doubted it would be a pleasant conversation.

_Here goes nothing_.

"They might say it to your face, but of all the things I've heard about you – and I've heard plenty, despite the fact that nobody speaks to me directly – not one guy has mentioned you being funny. They've described what you look like naked in graphic detail, but…"

"They what?" She cut across me, her voice shooting through three octaves. "Who talked about me naked? None of them have ever even seen me naked! Not properly, at least."

_Really? Interesting._ I guess that, like the rumours about me, hers were exaggerated too. The thought actually cheered me up quite a bit. I mean, it was horrible for her sake, having lies spread about you, but knowing that she hadn't been sleeping with every Tom, Dick and Merlin in school? Yeah, that didn't suck.

"I believe you. I really do. But…" I hedged, reluctant to tell her the rest. _She has to know_. "Most of the school seems to be under the impression that you've shagged half the guys in our year. Your reputation as an easy party girl, just or not, has kind of got a lot of circumstantial evidence to back it up."

"What, because I like a drink? Or because I flirt with guys?" she demanded.

Was she for real? Had she just fallen off the back of the turnip wagon or something? How could she not know how this stuff worked by now? "Well, both. And because… well…"

"Well what?"

I attempted a shrug, when really I was steeling myself up to say something I'd wanted to say to her since the ridiculous rumours has started at age fourteen. "Look, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but you don't really seem to have a lot of respect for yourself."

Rose flinched like I'd hit her, and I immediately wanted to take it back. I was famed for being callous and borderline mean, but I suddenly really didn't want her to have that impression of me. She turned her face towards the window, and I thought I saw a glimmer of tears in her eyes.

I immediately felt like a world-class dickhead.

"Oh. Ever considered that maybe I've just been a bit naive about the way guys exaggerate and embellish the occasional hook-up?" Yep, her voice was definitely trembling.

_Way to go, Scorpius_.

"Rose." I leaned forwards, and, without thinking, hooked my hand under her chin. She started when I touched her – I don't think she was expecting it. But she didn't pull away when I swivelled her head back around so that she was looking me in the eye again. Shit, her eyes were beautiful, even when she was all teary. "I don't for one second think that you're naive. I do think, however, that you're trying really hard to forge an identity out from under your mother's shadow. I'm probably the only person who isn't scared to tell you this to your face, so listen up; you aren't going the right way about it. You're a person, in your own right, and a pretty awesome one at that. You don't need to act all reckless to prove yourself."

I was astonished at my own candour. Not only that, but I realised the truth of my words only as I spoke them. Rose and I were a lot more alike than I'd given us both credit for.

"Isn't Draco Malfoy your dad?" she pointed out.

It was such an obvious question that I couldn't resist a snide answer. "So my mother tells me."

"Well, then, how can you possibly tell me all of that bullshit when you're doing the exact same thing? Isn't your snarky, brooding loner thing just another way of getting out from under your dad's shadow?"

Whoa. And I mean,_ whoa_! Nobody had ever hit so close to home in their assessment of me. It struck me that the whole 'understanding her inner angst' thing might actually work both ways.

"No, the 'snarky, brooding loner thing' as you put it, is out of necessity, not choice. I mean, the snark is a choice, I suppose. But I have no control over the ostracism." It was a half-truth. It bothered me more than I ever let on – I'd adopted the snarky attitude as a coping mechanism. The look in her eyes told me that she'd figured that part out, but she didn't pity me. Not yet, at least. I almost sighed in relief.

I continued. "The difference between the two of us is that I know who I am. I like who I am, and I don't give a shit what anyone else thinks." Okay, that last part wasn't really true, but I wasn't about to admit that. "I'm not my old man. I don't need to go around handing out hugs and daisies to everyone in order to be sure of that. And you don't need to flirt with every guy you see and break every rule set out for you, probably damaging your own credibility in the process."

Rose considered me for the longest moment. I realised I was still cupping her chin, and we were only inches apart. I could've counted the freckles that kissed the bridge of her nose.

"Well," she mumbled. "Then what's to set me apart from my mum? I'm just another brainy, bucktoothed Granger without all the rule-breaking and flirting."

I was shocked that she'd admit it, but I didn't gloat. She was more secure than I was, if she could say it out loud. But there was one bit of that assessment that bothered me, and I corrected her without thinking about it.

"You aren't bucktoothed. You're gorgeous."

I have never, not once in my life, paid a girl a compliment like that. Never even_ thought_ about doing it. It fell so naturally from my lips that I didn't even stop to rein it in. On closer inspection of Rose's face, I was glad that I didn't. Her eyes went really wide, and she looked astonished. In a good way. It might've just been wishful thinking on my part, but I didn't think so. I could hear her heartbeat pick up.

Of course, my brain chose that moment to become electrically aware of the fact that I was touching her, and she was much too close, and her lips were wet from where she'd licked them nervously. I wondered what they'd taste like. If I really wanted to, there was nothing to stop me from just leaning forwards and kissing her.

I really, really wanted to.

_Bad idea, Scorpius. Let the pretty girl go, now._ The rational little voice in my head, which sounded irritatingly like my mother, incidentally, piped up.

I released her and sat back, but she carried right on staring at me like I was a complete stranger. She looked like she'd lost the power of coherent thought, let alone speech.

I mean, I knew that it was unheard of for me to pay anyone a compliment, but come on! It wasn't that big of a deal. She'd better not bolt. Then I'd have ruined the only successful evening of 'hanging out' that I'd had at this school. Not an option.

"Rose? You alright? I guess I really know how to kill a conversation stone dead, don't I?"

She laughed at my joke, at least, but it sounded all high-pitched and unnatural. "It's fine. I mean, I'm fine. What were we talking about?"

_Dare I remind her? Might as well try to make light of it_. "I was telling you to drop your whole 'easy, party girl' persona. Then I told you that you're gorgeous, and you got all weird."

I swear, she blushed right to her roots. "Right. That's… yeah. Let's skip past that, shall we?"

"If you'd prefer." Okay, she wanted to forget. I could do that. It beat her running away. "So, at lunchtime, Creevey went batshit crazy. Millingsworth did yesterday. Sophie Avery was the same on Tuesday…"

"I didn't hear about that. What happened there?" She sounded over-enthused at the subject change. I quirked an eyebrow at her.

"She cut off Emmaline Wilkes's ponytail with a severing charm in the middle of class." It would've been funny, if it wasn't so horrific. Ah, who was I kidding? It was pretty funny, regardless.

"Why?"

Did Rose honestly expect me to understand the inner workings of a woman's mind? I went off what I knew. "Jealous rage, apparently. Emmaline stole Sophie's boyfriend. Well, 'stole' is probably the wrong word. He chucked Sophie for her."

"And that sort of outburst is uncharacteristic for Sophie?"

How many people did she know that would actually butcher a friend's hair and have that be described as characteristic? She must've had some colourful friends. "It's uncharacteristic for anyone with half a brain."

She looked a little sheepish. "I just meant – she's not the 'revenge' type?"

"Nah, Soph's about as mellow as they come. Nice girl, actually. She's one of the few Slytherins who actually says hello to me in the common room. It's all very strange."

Abruptly, I considered my options. I could tell Rose everything, and then she'd probably disappear off back to her friends, with nary a glance in my direction forevermore. I didn't know if I could stomach that. Maybe that would've been okay a couple of days ago, but now that I'd actually spoken to her… I didn't think I could bear to let her go.

I made a decision, and jumped down from the ledge, straightening my robes as I went.

"Where are you going?"

I attempted nonchalance. "Back to my dormitory. It's late."

"You said you had some more information about what's going on!" She sounded completely affronted. Ha, good. Maybe she'd come back for more, then.

"I did say that, didn't I?" I grinned broadly. "Oh, well."

Swivelling away from her, I began to walk off down the corridor.

"Hey, hang on a minute!" I felt her pursuit, and then she seized me by the arm. Her grip was surprisingly strong as she tugged me back around to face her. I watched her, victory written all over my face. "You can't just leave!"

"No?"_ Tell me to stay, then. Go on. Say it_.

"No! You haven't told me anything, yet!"

I kept my tone unconcerned. "On the contrary, I've told you plenty."

"Not about what I came here for!" She did the kitten glare thing at me again. Bloody adorable. I fought a smile. Again. What was the matter with me? I felt like I'd gone to sleep with a coat hanger in my mouth.

"Well, I guess you'll just have to meet me up here after the weekend, and I'll tell you the rest." I crossed my fingers behind my back. _Pleasesayyespleasesayyes…_

"Scorpius! You're blackmailing me, you realise?" She sounded indignant, but her face didn't quite match her voice. If anything, she looked more amused than anything else.

"'Blackmail' is such an ugly word, Freckles…"

I don't know where that nickname came from. I'd been studying the little flecks across her pale skin again, and it had just slipped out of my mouth. The slight furrow of her brow was the only indication she'd even heard me.

Nickname stays, then.

"Malfoy."

"Monday. Same time." Before she had a chance to disagree, I pulled my arm from her grasp and set off along the corridor again.

"I won't meet you again!" She yelled, but her heart didn't sound like it was in it. "Not even if you paid me!"

"Then I guess you'll never know…" I called enigmatically, losing sight of her over my shoulder as I turned the corner. Her incredulous expression was the last thing I saw, mouth agape, hands knotted in her fiery hair.

I'd barely gone another step when the laughter started for real.

* * *

**A/N – there you have it. A little glimpse into Scorpius's brain. I hope this unravels some of the mystery of his thought processes. **

**Until next time, **

**PJ **

**x**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Three**_

_ He inched closer, amusement dancing in his molten silver eyes. "I don't think you really want to know…"_

_ "I do." I protested. He was much, much too close now. My breathing picked up. "Something big is happening here."_

_ He smirked, and the expression sent a flash of heat down my spine. "Are you talking about this?" Quicker than greased lightning, he gripped hold of my shoulders and spun me around, my back to his chest, so that I could look out of the window. Below me, all across the grounds, students were duelling with each other. Spells flashed through the darkness, the reds, blues and greens lighting up the night sky like a firework display. I watched in horror. _

_ "Or this?" he continued, voice low and gravelly in my ear as he pulled me back against him. I gasped as his hands moved from my shoulders to snake around my waist. His fingers splayed across my stomach – everywhere he touched me burned so badly I thought I might combust. His breath was warm on my neck, but it made me shiver so violently that his arms were the only thing keeping me upright. _

_ "I…" I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. The battle raging below couldn't even compare to the violent emotions tearing me to pieces inside. _

_ "What, Rose? What do you want?"_

_ "You," I whispered, spinning myself around in his arms. All I saw was his eyes blazing into mine from an inch away. "I want you."_

_ His mouth came crashing down onto mine. My fingers immediately tangled themselves in the silky strands of his pale, shining hair as he picked me up. Legs wrapping around his waist, I braced myself as we both collided with the wall, kissing fiercely, as though our lives depended on it. _

_ That damn sarcastic tongue was finally put to some good use as it explored my mouth. Each stroke of it against my own, each brush of lips, each graze of teeth… it left my head spinning. I didn't want air – it wasn't necessary to live, surely, because I wasn't getting any of it right now, and I'd never felt more alive. His hands were everywhere; my waist, my hips, the back of my neck. His fingers landed on my thigh, travelling up, up, up… _

"Jesus!" I sat upright in bed, trembling from head to toe. A sleepy snuffle from Arya's bed answered my exclamation. My pulse was hammering in my ears, so loudly that I could hear it over my ragged breathing. My whole body was on _fire_, like it had been real. Truthfully, it was better than any reality I'd experienced.

How the hell was this happening? Twenty-eight or so hours ago, I'd been all hot and bothered while I was making out with Malachi. Something that was actually happening. And yet, the way I'd felt in that dream… I'd never been so turned on in my life.

Turned on because of the mere _thought_ of Scorpius Malfoy touching me. Dear God.

_If my friends could see me now…_ I thought wryly, shrugging off my duvet and sliding out between the drapes of my four-poster bed. The sky was the weak, watery blue of early morning beyond the window, and I appeared to be the only one awake. The light snores of the other girls served as a calming auditory balm for my racing heart.

Slowly, I felt my breathing return to normal. The high of the dream wore off, and I came crashing back to Earth with a bump.

I'd just had a sex dream about Scorpius Malfoy. _Malfoy_! And I'd woken from it in a hot flush, not the cold sweat of a nightmare. Surely, surely, it was a nightmare? I recalled the way his lips had felt against my fevered skin in the dream, and I shivered with longing.

Damn. Not a nightmare, then. Or, maybe, more accurately, it was a waking nightmare, because I _couldn't _want a Malfoy.

_You do_, a traitorous voice in my head whispered. _You want him. Badly_.

I moved on autopilot as I changed and headed downstairs to the common room, trying to block out the dream images that were flashing through my mind with alarming intensity. I usually forgot what I'd been dreaming about the moment I woke up. Something told me that I wouldn't be forgetting about this for a long, long time.

I drew up short when I reached the common room doorway. It was almost empty, save for one lone figure curled up on one of the armchairs closest to the fire. I recognised the vivid red hair instantly.

"Lily?"

She turned, and the expression on her face was so sad that it momentarily drove all thoughts of Scorpius from my mind. I rushed over to her, kneeling by the arm of her chair and drawing her hands into my own. She regarded me with those expressive brown eyes of hers.

"What is it?" I demanded. "What's wrong?"

"I… I don't know," she whispered. She looked so lost, so completely out of control, that I couldn't speak. "Rose, I… I think I'm going mad."

_You and me both, kid_.

"What do you mean? Mad how?" My words were low and urgent. Normally, I would've laughed off a comment like that – I would've told Lily that she was being completely ridiculous. But there was something about her expression that repressed my instincts to play down her angst. I'd never seen her so utterly, heartbreakingly serious.

"I… I don't know," she repeated. "I feel… dark."

_Dark? _That sounded ominous, and creepier than anything I'd ever head come out of her mouth. Goosebumps erupted along my arms, and I fought a shiver. "Dark in what way?"

"Like…" she seemed to search her brain for an adequate analogy. "I'm not sure. It's sort of like someone's sucked the happiness out of me."

"Someone like…" I steeled myself, trying to ignore the wave of foreboding that crashed over me. "Like a dementor?"

To my relief, she instantly shook her head. "No, it's not the same. Dementors are supposed to make you feel like you'll never be happy again, right?"

I nodded. "Uh-huh. Dad says it feels like this force of all-consuming despair, where everything suddenly becomes so futile and hopeless that you don't know how to go on."

"Well, this isn't like that. It's more like… like the happiness is slowly being drained out of me. I've just been getting more and more depressed, and I can't stop it or control it."

"Is this…" I thought back to Al's words the other day. "Does this have something to do with a boy?"

Lily gave me a wry look that made me instantly feel like an idiot. I didn't know how she managed to do that, but it was an expression that I'd long been jealous of. It struck me, then, that it was also an expression I'd seen on someone else. Scorpius Malfoy.

"No," Lily said, shaking me out of my Malfoy thoughts for the second time. "I'm not that daft, Rose."

Well, she had me there. Lily was a lot of things – kooky, carefree and spirited came instantly to mind – but daft wasn't one of them. I nodded my wordless acknowledgement of her point.

"I'm sure it'll get better," I told her, after a few moments' silence. Truthfully, I wasn't sure of any such thing, but I wanted so badly to give her some peace of mind. Her earnest eyes told me that my misgivings hadn't shown through in my reassurance. She believed me.

"Okay."

"Lil, if this gets any worse… do you promise you'll tell me about it?"

"I promise."

I got awkwardly to my feet again. My legs were stiff from being crouched in that uncomfortable position, and I shook them out one at a time, wincing slightly as my knees cracked. "We'll figure this out, you know."

Lily smiled. "D'you ever notice how everyone else's problems sort of instantly become your problems when they tell you about it?"

I hadn't, in all honesty. But then, my cousin was far more observant than I was. I gave her hair an affectionate ruffle. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No," she replied softly. "It's just a Rose thing."

* * *

I went down to breakfast with my thoughts elsewhere. Weirdly, it felt like everyone stopped to look at me as I entered the Great Hall. It was only for a second, though, and then they all seemed to go back to eating their breakfasts, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was the topic of a lot of their conversations.

I was too distracted to pay them much attention, though. I was _so_ distracted, in fact, that I'd managed to walk right past several people who were waving to get my attention. I doubled back, drawing up short beside what I now recognised as Louis, James and Fred. All three of them were looking at me like I'd lost my mind.

"We called you like, six times," Fred accused. "How come you ignored us?"

"Daydreaming about Finnigan, probably," James put in, a slightly snide edge to his words. I shot him a glare that made Louis chuckle. He flipped his blond fringe from his eyes and surveyed me with the piercing blue gaze he'd inherited from Uncle Bill.

"Rosie, you look exhausted."

"I'm fine."

"You aren't."

Louis, like Lily, was keenly observant. Unlike Lily, he didn't keep his observations to himself. He elbowed Fred, nodding at me. "Doesn't she look tired?"

Fred had just stuffed an entire bacon roll into his mouth, so it took him a few minutes to answer. He chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed. "Yup. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were sneaking out of the Gryffindor tower at night to go and meet up with one of your many men."

James raised his eyebrows. "You know, cuz, I think you might be onto something with that." He turned back to me. "I heard that you _did_ sneak out last night. And the night before."

"Where did you…?" I trailed off, my expression darkening as I put the pieces together. "Albus."

James regarded me serenely. "My little brother has his uses. Informant is perhaps top of that list."

"I'm going to kill him," I muttered.

"Now, now. No need to be so dramatic." James's smug grin was infuriating. "He's concerned about you. As am I, for that matter." He slid over the bench slightly, making room for me, and patted the available space. "Take a seat."

"I don't think so."

"Rosie, sit." Fred's dark eyes met mine. The lack of impish sparkle reflected there made me actually consider his words. Concern for me radiated from his countenance. "We've got stuff we need to talk to you about."

Slowly, I sank onto the bench. "Is this like the time you lectured Hugo after he ratted you out about the water fountain thing?"

James shook his head despairingly. "That boy has no sense of familial solidarity. And no, it's not like that, because we'd let Molly tell you off if that was the case. She's scarier than we are."

And wasn't that the truth. Their rule-breaking foursome was so formidable only because Molly was the brains of the operation. That girl was sorted into the wrong house – cunning like that should've got her sent to Slytherin the second the sorting hat touched her head.

"Well… okay…"

"Bear in mind," Louis began, pointing his fork at me. He'd speared a mushroom on the end of it. "That this is coming from a place of concern and caring, and we are in no way telling you how to live your life."

"Okay…" I didn't like the sound of that.

"That being said," Fred continued, "We've been hearing certain rumours about you, lately. Rumours that aren't exactly flattering."

"Some might go as far as to call them ugly," James declared.

"Yeah," Fred agreed. "Vicious, ugly rumours."

"Also bear in mind," Louis had divested his fork of the mushroom, and was now brandishing a piece of toast in my direction. "That we are giving you the benefit of the doubt, here, and we're perfectly willing to write this whole thing off as a misunderstanding, or else just salacious gossip."

"And," James clapped one hand to my shoulder. "We feel that we're much better judges of character than most of the people around here, so we're fairly confident that most of this stuff is made up."

The first half of that statement was debatable. With an increasing sense of foreboding, I asked, "Okay, so are any of you going to actually tell me what these rumours involve."

"Well…" All three boys exchanged an uneasy glance. Louis, the bravest of the three, squared his shoulders and met my gaze with a sense of determination. "It seems that people are under the impression that you've been… um… intimately involved with Malachi Finnigan and Sol Cresswell."

The Sol part was a twist I hadn't expected, but Scorpius had pretty much told me what everyone thought about me and Malachi. I didn't know why Sol had been added to that list, though. He wasn't even one of the guys I'd ever dated. All I knew of him was that he was Malachi's best friend, and he'd seemed perfectly alright in the few brief interactions we'd ever had.

"When you say intimately involved…?" I echoed. "Do you mean, like, had sex with?"

They all flinched. "Yeah," James said, measuring my expression carefully. "At the same time."

If I'd been holding anything right then, I'd have dropped it. "WHAT?"

Those nearest us craned their necks at my outburst. I hastily lowered my voice. "Who told you that? That's not true!"

"We knew it wasn't," said Fred, but he looked profoundly relieved. "And… er… well, this is awkward…"

"Who told you? One of you better start talking, or else…"

"Rosie, chill your beans," James hissed. "It was Cresswell that said it, alright? He was shooting his mouth off about it in Charms."

I gaped at my cousin, horror-struck. "And then Malachi told him to stop talking shit, right?" They exchanged another significant look. "Right?!"

"Um, no," Louis mumbled. "He laughed and said 'Sol, keep your voice down'."

I buried my head in my hands, fighting the urge to scream. No wonder I'd been getting furtive looks since I walked in the room. Gossip like that would've spread around the entire school by now.

All thoughts of food vanished from my head, and I suddenly found myself repressing the urge to vomit. Merlin, what must everyone be thinking about me?

When I got my hands on Sol Cresswell, they'd have to send what was left of him to St Mungo's in a matchbox. And as for Malachi…

"I gotta go," I muttered, swinging my legs over the bench and getting quickly to my feet. I could feel my cousins' gazes on me as I made a swift retreat, as well as a few less friendly ones.

I'd made it halfway to the grand staircase when I changed my mind, and veered off towards the main doors. I'd rather spend some time outside in the open air – maybe the nip of the October wind would chase away some of the undue humiliation that was making my cheeks flush whenever anyone looked at me.

* * *

I emerged into a crisp autumn morning. It was usually the kind of weather that would make me look forward to a Hogsmeade trip, but not now. The idea of going anywhere with Malachi Finnigan caused my stomach to pitch with another bout of nausea. True, he hadn't exactly corroborated his friend's story, but he hadn't denied it, either, and that was almost as bad.

My feet had carried me at an angry pace all the way to the greenhouses without my conscious effort. I was about to turn back and head somewhere where I was less likely to run into people, when I heard a familiar voice drift through the open window of greenhouse four.

"…understand his concerns, but honestly, you don't need to keep an eye on me."

"Scorpius, it's not just your father who's worried. Several of the staff members have mentioned you being withdrawn and somewhat sullen in lessons, too."

I froze in mid-step, cocking my head so that I could listen more intently to the conversation. It was wrong of me, I knew, but I couldn't resist. I edged closer, ducking down so that I wouldn't be visible through the glass. An azalea bush provided the perfect camouflage, as long as neither of greenhouse's occupants stuck their heads out of the open window. If either of them got the urge to do so, I'd be so screwed.

From my hiding place, I could just about make out the tall, almost gangly frame of Neville Longbottom, and, beside him, the leaner, more graceful outline of what was unmistakeably Scorpius Malfoy. He was dressed like a proper Slytherin; in dark jeans and a light-knit emerald green jumper. It clashed magnificently with our Herbology teacher's brown and purple cardigan.

"Is 'sullen' really the word? I'd call it 'stoic', or maybe 'aloof'."

I grinned, unable to help myself. Even with teachers, apparently, Scorpius couldn't help being a smart-arse.

"Scorpius…" Uncle Neville sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Don't be difficult. I'm trying to help you…"

"By reminding me that I have no friends? Or by letting me know that my father is concerned about my lack of friends? Touching as that sentiment is, I don't actually care one way or the other about what these cretins think of me, Professor."

"Scorpius, we're only concerned that you might be ostracizing yourself in some way. It would help if you had someone to talk to… anyone, really. I don't understand your reticence when it comes to talking to your classmates. You neglect group work, and prefer to work alone. You're one of the most intelligent boys I've ever met, and yet you don't raise your hand in class, and you never venture an answer unless someone coaxes it out of you."

"Nobody wants to talk to me," Scorpius replied inflectionlessly. "And I'm fine with that. And as for the group work, I'd rather not be dragged down by anyone else. Like you said, I'm smart. I don't need a teacher's validation to know that. Why would I bother raising my hand and volunteering information that I ought to know in the first place? So that you can pat me on the head and give me a gold star? No, thanks. I'm happy doing things my way, which, incidentally, is the same way I've been doing things for the last six years."

"You've never told Draco about other people's attitudes towards you at school." Uncle Neville's voice was gentle, but it got Scorpius's back up.

"Yeah, only so I could avoid him going all 'dad-of-the-year' on me and doing something like _this_. I didn't want him to worry about me. And, well, thanks to you, Professor, that's kind of gone out of the window. Since when are you pals with Draco Malfoy, anyway?"

"I'm not, especially," he replied smoothly. "But my wife happens to be good friends with your mother."

"I thought adults were supposed to be above teenage gossip?" Scorpius asked superciliously. "Apparently not."

"Just…" Neville sighed sadly. "Just think about what I said, okay? It might not hurt to reach out to someone. There's got to be at least one person in this school that you could stand to be around."

For a moment, I didn't think Scorpius was going to answer. He shifted awkwardly, running one hand through his perpetually dishevelled blond hair. "There might be. One person. Possibly." He paused, and when he next spoke, he sounded almost rueful. "Although, I doubt you'd want to actively encourage me reaching out in that scenario."

Uncle Neville sounded slightly amused when he answered. "You'd be surprised. I'll deny it if anyone asks me – after all, I'd hate to ruin your glib and unapproachable image that you work so hard to maintain – but I actually think that you're a decent, goodhearted boy. And I think she'll see that, too, if you let your guard down a little."

Scorpius frowned. "What makes you think I was talking about a girl?"

"There's always a girl, isn't there?" Neville said, a smile in his voice. "Now, go on, go and enjoy your weekend."

Dismissed, Scorpius straightened up from the desk he'd been perched on and made his way to the greenhouse door. Before he got there, he paused, and half-turned back to where Neville was now wrestling a stack of essays from the mouth of a potted baby venomous tentacula. "Professor Longbottom?"

He glanced up. "Yes, Scorpius?"

"Thanks. I guess."

Neville grinned. "You're welcome. I guess."

With a slight smirk on his face, Scorpius ducked out of the doorway and I lost sight of him behind a trellis. The gravel crunching under his feet was the only indicator that he hadn't just vanished into thin air. It took me a second to realise that his footsteps were getting louder, not fainter, and I hastily straightened out of my crouched position, trying not to look as though I'd been eavesdropping.

He rounded the corner just as I tugged down the hem of my shirt, which had ridden up when I was crouching. Scorpius stopped dead when he clocked sight of me, eyebrows lifting slightly.

"Oh. Hey." He managed an impressively neutral expression. If he'd thought I'd overheard his conversation, he didn't show it. Still, as that searching silver gaze flickered from my hairline to my toes and back up again, I couldn't help but feel my cheeks start to burn.

"Um, hi."

"You're out early," he observed. I fiddled with the sleeve of my tan cardigan. I'd picked it out this morning because it matched the shade of my cropped shorts, plus it brought back some warmth to my complexion that would otherwise have been leached by my clingy white top, but I suddenly felt less put together than I'd thought when I appraised my reflection in the mirror before I left the dormitory. Why did he make looking good seem so effortless?

"Yeah, I wanted to get away from…" I trailed off, gesturing behind me to where the castle loomed.

"Family drama?"

I fell into step beside him as he led me away from the greenhouse. He slowed his stride so that it matched mine – at five-foot-four, my steps would've been easily outstripped by his long legs otherwise.

"Not exactly," I muttered, tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ears as the breeze whipped it across my face. Scorpius frowned.

"Then what's the matter?"

"How do you know that something's the matter?"

His smile was as dry as always. "Because I can tell. You women aren't as mysterious as you think you are."

"Hey! Don't generalise…" I stopped myself from launching into a feminist tirade at the amused expression on his face. "Oh. You're baiting me."

"I can't help it. It's so easy."

I glowered at him. "Has anyone ever told you that you're really annoying?"

"Oh, only hourly." The smirk slipped slightly, and I saw what might've been actual concern in his eyes. "Seriously, though, what's wrong? You look… well, pissed off, actually."

"I'm sure it's just the effect of your charming company," I grumbled.

He sniggered, and then spun abruptly so that he was blocking my path. "Nice try, Weasley. What's really got you all wound up like a clockwork toy?"

I sighed. "It's nothing."

"Bullshit."

"No, it really is nothing. Someone's been spreading rumours about me, and none of it is true."

Scorpius's expression darkened, and for a second, he actually looked pretty frightening. "I'm assuming you're referring to Cresswell and Finnigan, and their fictitious exploits with you in that broom cupboard."

"A broom cupboard!" I exploded. "Seriously? As if they hadn't already made me sound cheap enough!"

His lips twitched slightly, like he might smile, but his ire and resentment on my behalf stymied the urge. It was kind of nice, actually. "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure they'll get what's coming to them."

Something about that sentence – dark, ominous and full of promise – made me shiver. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to pretend that it was the breeze that was causing the goosebumps to erupt across my skin.

"Well, yeah, karma has a way of coming back around. But that could take years, and meanwhile, my reputation is in the gutter."

He graced me with one of his enigmatic grins. "It probably won't take as long as you think."

I eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds, but he didn't venture anything else. Skirting around him, I continued to walk back towards the castle. He quickly caught me up.

"If Malachi thinks I'm going to go to Hogsmeade with him after this, he's crazy," I muttered, glaring savagely at the path in front of me. "I mean, did he actually think I'd brush this under the rug? No big deal?"

"I imagine," Scorpius said carefully, "That he didn't think you'd find out about it until it was already too late. Either that, or he didn't think you'd find out about it, full stop."

"And why wouldn't I?"

"Because you've been pretty impervious to all the gossip about you thus far."

I digested that comment in unpleasant silence for a moment. "Yeah, but it's never been this bad before. Do you think I'll be able to come back from this?"

I turned to face him again, and found his gaze already on me, the same swirling grey as the clouds overhead. "You're probably asking the wrong guy. But, for what it's worth, I think that if anyone can claw their way back from public condemnation, it's you."

His words made me feel hot all over. "What makes you think that?"

I stilled as he reached over and tucked back the stubborn strand of hair that had escaped from behind my ear. I fought a shiver again as his fingers grazed my neck, trying very hard not to think about the dream. The details were fuzzier now that I'd been awake for a while, but I could still remember how his lips had felt on mine.

"You're invincible, Rose. You have been ever since we were eleven years old, and you managed to shake off that time when you came into Potions with frogspawn in your hair."

I smiled as I remembered the incident he was referring to. Dominique had somehow provoked the wrath of her little brother, and Louis had decided to exact revenge by setting a frogspawn trap for her outside the dormitories. Instead of getting her, however, the trap had gotten me, and I'd been running too late to shower it off. So I'd ignored the sniggers from my new classmates and just waltzed into the Potions classroom covered in the stuff, playing it off like it was no big deal. To my utmost astonishment, everyone had followed my lead, and acted the exact same way.

I hadn't been laughed at in public ever since.

"I didn't know you remembered stuff like that," I murmured, still smiling at him.

"You made quite the impression," he responded quietly. "It's sort of hard to forget."

The silver of his eyes looked impossibly bright, standing this close. Time seemed to stand still, and even the chill of the wind didn't touch me as the charged silence between us grew and intensified. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

Then the sound of someone hollering my name broke the spell. "ROSE!"

Both Scorpius and I jumped, and he looked just as rattled as I felt by the strangely intense moment. My heart was thundering in my chest again, and my stomach was doing that flip-flop thing that it had up in the astronomy tower. I rearranged my expression into something more casual as I turned in the direction of the person who had yelled.

Albus was tearing across the grass, his hair even messier than usual and his cheeks flushed with the cold. He skidded to a stop right in front of me, not even seeming to notice Scorpius's presence. His eyes glittered like the emeralds they resembled – I'd rarely seen him look so keyed up this early in the morning.

"Did you hear?"

That seemed like an odd opening for the lecture I'd been anticipating. I frowned questioningly at him. "Hear what?"

"About Malachi Finnigan! He's in the hospital wing!"

"What happened?" As upset as I was with Malachi, I didn't wish him real physical harm. I wasn't a complete vindictive bitch. "Is he okay?"

"Debatable." Al broke into a grin, which didn't seem fitting for the situation. "He's been coughing up roses since midnight. Madam Pomfrey doesn't know what curse he was hit with, but it's something she's not been able to figure out how to cure yet. McGonagall's stumped, too – she says it seems like a spell someone's just thought up on their own."

"Well, that's…" I broke off, suddenly, as Scorpius's earlier words came back to me. _I'm sure they'll get what's coming to them. _I whirled around, ready to demand answers, but Scorpius had mysteriously vanished under the cover of Al's interruption. "Al… was Malachi the only one affected?"

"No," Al said, with relish. "I think his friend was, too. Something Cresswell… Sam…?"

"Sol," I supplied, still staring at the space Scorpius had recently vacated. "And they were both coughing roses?"

"Yeah. Like, whole bushes of them. It's probably really uncomfortable for them and everything, but you've got to admit, that's an impressive piece of magic."

"Yeah," I said faintly. "Really impressive."

"I wonder who did it…" he mused, but I was barely listening. I was thinking of that enigmatic smile.

_It'll probably happen sooner than you think. _

I didn't need to wonder who had cast that curse. I already knew.

* * *

_**A/N – So, this weekend one is going to be a two-parter, because it was getting way too long – over 9,000 words, and I wasn't even done with it. I'm splitting it roughly down the middle, though the second half is a bit longer, and more stuff happens. **_

_**Love to hear your thoughts, as always!**_

_**PJ**_

_**x**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Four**_

By the time everyone had climbed into the carriages that took us to Hogsmeade, news of the rose-curse had spread across the school. Arya and Albus sat opposite me as the carriage started to move, speculating away about who could've been behind it. Apparently, Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall together had managed to counteract the spell, but both boys were being repeatedly fed doses of healing potions to try and repair the damage the thorns had done to their windpipes.

I vacillated between vindictively pleased and mildly horrified about Scorpius's violently gallant display of poetic justice. At least, I assumed it was Scorpius, because really, who else would've been that specific in their punishments? And who else would've had the skills to devise a curse like that in the first place? It took a really crafty, twisted mind to produce something like that. I swear, that boy was Slytherin through and through.

Ryan was uncharacteristically quiet as he rode beside me, staring out of the window. I kept shooting him quizzical looks, but he was just shrugging in response. I gave up quickly, instead retreating into my own thoughts.

"Rose," Alice murmured on my left when the carriages pulled up at our destination. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

I nodded, surprised by the sombre look on her face. She towed me off to one side as the others disembarked, pulling her long, blonde hair to one side and braiding it in a nervous gesture she'd had since we were kids.

"You okay?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

"No. Not really. I mean, I don't know." She bit her lip, green eyes wide. "Something weird happened today, with… with Fred."

"Our Fred?" I was surprised. "He seemed fine at breakfast…"

"Yeah, I thought so, too. But he, um… well, he started getting really angry when I was speaking to him earlier. It was like he just snapped all of a sudden."

That was starting to sound way too familiar. "What were you guys talking about?"

To my complete disbelief, Alice blushed a deep shade of magenta. "Um… I was telling him that it would probably be better if we didn't go to Hogsmeade together today."

"Were you meant to?"

"Yeah. I mean, we had plans, but I… it didn't seem right, not until I'd talked to you and Al about… about…"

Then I got it. Credit where it was due, the two of them had been convincingly pretending they were nothing more than passing acquaintances for, well, ever. I masked my astonishment at the revelation that that wasn't the case. "You wanted to tell us that you're going out with our cousin?"

Alice nodded, and impossibly, she managed to blush an even deeper shade of pink. "Yeah, since about a week after the school year started."

"Oh…" I couldn't think what else to say. In fairness, I was a little blindsided. "Well, I mean, it's fine. That you're a couple, I mean. Honestly, I think you're mental, because he's an absolute nightmare, but if that's what you want, then…"

"I knew you'd be okay with it," she said quickly, "But that's not why I'm worried. He flipped out. Started accusing me of fancying Ryan, of all people, and then, when I told him nothing was going on there – I don't feel that way about him, and plus he's completely in love with you – he just stormed away in a total rage and hasn't spoken to me since."

Her lip trembled, and I pulled her into an instinctive hug. "Oh, Alice, I'm sure it'll be… hang on, did you just say that Ryan's in love with _me_?"

Alice clapped a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Merlin! It just slipped out!"

"Are you for real?" I demanded. "He's… no…"

"I swore I wouldn't tell anyone!" she fretted. "Rose, you have to swear that you won't let on that you know, he made me promise!"

It was rapidly becoming a day of serious information overload. I figured the best thing to do would be to just pointedly ignore everything that wasn't immediately relevant. "It's okay, Ali, I won't tell."

She practically melted with relief. "Good. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to say anything…"

I nodded, already distracted by something else. "When you say that Fred flipped out…?"

"It was like he was a different person," she whispered, that tremulous note creeping back into her tone. "He was pretty scary, actually."

Now, I'd seen Fred hopping mad, but I'd never once found him scary. He hadn't even managed intimidating. Maybe I was made of sterner stuff than Alice, or maybe there was something more nefarious afoot. All I knew was that it was yet another thing on my veritable laundry list of things I needed to investigate into.

"We'll sort it out," I assured her. "But, for now, let's just enjoy our day."

"Hey," Alice mused, as something suddenly occurred to her. "Aren't you supposed to be on a date with Finnigan today? Did you not want to visit him in the hospital wing?"

My expression darkened into a scowl, and Alice seemed to – wisely – sense that she needed to change the subject.

"I was thinking about going to Honeydukes and getting some more sugar quills. I think I'm running out…"

* * *

Despite the amount of buzzing information in my head, I managed to have a relatively normal morning with my friends. We spent well over an hour pouring over the confectionary in Honeydukes – I'd seldom had a more diverting ten minutes than when Al and I had chased a giggling Arya around with a handful of cockroach cluster – and our trip to the shrieking shack had been worth it only to see Ryan go sprawling over a tree root and insist that ghosts had pushed him.

Around lunchtime, we checked into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which was, as always, the most densely populated shop on the high street. Everything on the shelves was packaged brightly enough to give me a headache. I noticed James and Molly lurking suspiciously by a display titled 'Useful Distractions' and paid a brief second to wonder what sort of evil scheme the pair of them were concocting this time. Whatever it was, I fervently hoped I wasn't going to be involved.

The next familiar face my eyes fell on was my brother's. He was pugnaciously explaining to one of his fourth-year friends that his father had run this store for nearly eight years, so _of course_ he knew how to sneak into the back room undetected. I thought about intervening, but decided ultimately to leave him to it. Hugo was a total brain and a staunch follower of the rules – he had inherited our mother's good sense in that department – so I was pretty confident that he wouldn't do anything that would get him in that much trouble.

I spotted the auburn curls and brown-black hair of my cousins Lucy and Roxanne – both fifth years – as they poured over a small cage of pygmy puffs. Roxy seemed to be on the verge of buying one; she kept pointing excitedly at a little lemon-yellow ball of fluff that was turning somersaults in the bottom of the cage.

When I tuned back into my own friends' conversation, it was to find them picking up an old refrain.

"I'm just saying, it doesn't seem likely that someone would curse them both for no reason." That was Albus, his arms crossed emphatically over his chest as he stared down tiny Arya.

"Well, then, what do you think they did to provoke someone into it?" she challenged.

"I don't know, but it must've been pretty bad. Those roses they were spewing did a number on the inside of their throats."

"Rose?" Arya appealed to me. "What do you think?"

I played dumb. "About what?"

"Why Cresswell and Finnigan were jinxed this morning."

"I heard that it was because they were spreading lies about a certain lovely redheaded cousin of ours." I glanced up to find James surveying me with a look of begrudging respect. "That was an impressive bit of revenge you got there, Rosie Posie."

All of my friends turned to gape at me in unison. "That was _you_?"

"No," I snapped. "It wasn't me. I mean, yes, they were spreading rumours about me, but no, I didn't put them in the hospital wing. I can't say I'm broken up about the fact that they ended up there, but I didn't have anything to do with it."

"They were coughing up _roses_," James insisted. "Seems pretty specific."

"Well, I'm not saying that it wasn't done on my behalf. I just didn't do it."

James surveyed me for a long moment, and apparently decided that I was telling the truth, because he whistled incredulously. "You've got one hell of a knight in shining armour then, cuz."

Ryan wrinkled his nose. "Do knights in shining armour really go around cursing people?"

"I don't know," Al mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I'd curse someone for saying anything horrible about Arya."

Arya glowed. I scowled. "It wasn't a knight-in-shining-armour thing. It's just the sort of thing that whoever did it would do, that's all."

"You know who it was," James surmised, studying me carefully. "You know who cursed them! Come on, Rosie, spill the beans!"

"I don't know anything," I denied. _Well, I don't know for sure, anyway. _"Just let it go, will you?"

James looked like he was about to disagree, but a distraction arrived in the form of a wickedly chuckling Molly. "James, check this out…"

Obeying her summons, he allowed himself to be dragged away, but not before fixing me with a look that plainly said he'd interrogate me at the first available opportunity. I made a mental note to come up with something suitably evasive for when that opportunity arose.

* * *

After lining our pockets with Weasley's merchandise, the five of us headed to the Three Broomsticks. We claimed a window booth, and Alice dutifully headed to the bar to order us drinks. The pub was crowded with the lunchtime rush of students, and poor Morgana the barmaid was looking harangued as she took about ten orders at once.

"Have you settled on a costume for tonight?" Arya asked me, as Alice returned with the drinks. Ryan leapt up to assist her when she seemed to be struggling with all the bottles at once, sliding one across the table to me. I caught it and took a swig, allowing the warm liquid to chase away the autumn chill from my body.

"What's tonight again?" I asked.

"The party in the Slytherin common room?" Arya raised her eyebrows, shuffling over to make room for Alice as she sat. "Don't tell me you forgot!"

"Okay, I won't tell you that." I took another sip of my butterbeer.

"Rose!" she groaned. "Only you could forget about a Halloween party."

I was pretty sure that was meant to be mildly insulting, but I grinned as if she'd just paid me a compliment. "It slipped my mind, that's all. I figured I'd just make something up as I went along.

"I'm going as Dumbledore," Al interjected, shooting me a wry smile. "You were right about it being a good idea. Although he wore some pretty outlandish getups."

"And you don't?" I remarked, remembering Al's purple and green pinstriped suit that he'd worn the Christmas before. Fred and Louis had nearly laughed him out of the Burrow when he'd shown up in that. Instead of responding, Al merely stuck out his tongue at me.

We continued to joke with each other in that light, teasing way for a few minutes, until Arya elbowed me sharply in the ribs.

"Ow!" I complained, glaring at her reproachfully. She didn't even see it, however – her eyes were trained on something ahead of us.

"What's Malfoy doing in here?" she murmured, jerking her head in the same trajectory her eyes had been following. I craned my neck, and sure enough, Scorpius was reclined across the seat of a booth he'd miraculously managed to procure for himself, drinking a – wait, was that firewhiskey? How the hell had he managed to get served _that_? – and surveying the chaos around him with his usual ironic nonchalance.

Something in my stomach lurched at the sight of him, and before I knew what I was doing, I'd stood up and clambered over Arya and Alice's knees to free myself from the booth. Four sets of eyes followed my movements, brows wrinkling in confusion.

"What're you doing?" Al said warily.

"I'll be right back," I muttered, and turned my back on them swiftly as I marched off in Scorpius's direction. He watched my approach impassively, only unleashing the patented Malfoy smirk when I had stopped directly in front of his table.

"Rose," he nodded in greeting. His voice – smooth and laconic – both irritated and thrilled me in equal measure.

"It was you, wasn't it?" I accused, without preamble.

He jerked his head to the seat opposite. "Have a drink with me."

"I'm already having a drink with other people," I said brusquely.

"And yet…" He sipped indifferently from his firewhiskey. "You're standing here, talking to me. Your friends can't be good conversationalists." Silver eyes raked over me. "Or there's something irresistible about me that keeps pulling you over."

"Don't flatter yourself," I scoffed, but I still dropped into the seat opposite him. He smirked in satisfaction, and pushed a second glass of amber liquid that I hadn't noticed before towards me. I frowned at it suspiciously. "Why did you order two?"

"Because I knew you'd come over here."

"Presumptuous of you."

"Like I said, you can't stay away."

I was about to argue with him, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me rise to his baiting, so I simply shut my mouth and sipped from the drink in silence. I could feel my friends' eyes on me from across the busy pub, and I did my best to dutifully ignore their stares.

"So, why did you do it?" I burst out, after several minutes of tense, charged silence.

He appraised his drink as he answered me. "I never said I did anything."

"Oh, come on, I know it was you." I leaned my forearms on the table, inclining myself towards him slightly. "Who else would've done something like that?"

"Who, indeed?" He flashed me another mysterious smile, and I felt the now familiar fluttering sensation in my stomach. I scowled.

"What's happening with the students? Why are people getting angry over nothing?"

"I told you; I'll tell you my theory on Monday."

"Why are you dragging this out?"

"Why are you so insatiably curious about everything?" he countered.

I gritted my teeth. "Why do you keep answering my questions with another question?"

"Because I'm hoping that I'll get you mad enough to see your head spin all the way around," he teased, a definite sparkle in his eyes. "And it's working, isn't it? Look at you… almost as fiery as that hair of yours."

_It's comments like that_, I thought suddenly. Those sorts of observations made me unsure whether I wanted to slap him or… well, I wouldn't even allow myself to think the alternative.

"You think you're so clever and charming, don't you, Scorpius?" I hissed.

"I don't. I think I'm arrogant and unapproachable. _You_, inexplicably, seem to think that I'm clever and charming, and I'm not really that inclined to correct you."

He had an answer for everything! I fumed silently, taking several sips of my drink while I thought of an adequate response. The firewhiskey seemed to burn on the way down my throat, but it wasn't an unpleasant feeling.

He spoke again before I had the chance to, twisting in his seat and leaning forwards across the table separating us. His eyes held all of that bewildering, stormy intensity as he regarded me. "Here's the thing, Freckles. Let's say, hypothetically, I did something to those two pricks. You want to know why – again, strictly speaking in hypotheticals – I would do something like that?"

I nodded mutely.

"Well, it's simple. I really don't like liars. Even more than that, I don't like men who treat women with a complete lack of respect. But most of all, I really, really don't like listening to people speak about you like you're a piece of meat for the dogs to chew over. You're not. You're fierce, and bright and beautiful… like a living flame. I won't stand by idly while someone tries to extinguish you. Hypothetically, of course."

My breath hitched, and I suddenly felt dizzy. "Scorpius…"

"Does that answer your question?" He sat back, the picture of imperturbable ease once more. To look at him, you'd never be able to tell that something so passionate had just come out of his mouth. I was almost half-convinced that I'd imagined it myself.

I realised he was still waiting for a response, and I grappled for the right words. This wasn't right. I was _Rose Weasley_. I didn't let guys render me speechless. I certainly didn't let them so obviously affect me. I tossed my hair over one shoulder and propped my chin in one hand. "Well, gosh, Malfoy, that almost sounded like you liked me or something."

He laughed, apparently delighted by my abrupt return to sarcasm. "Almost, eh? I best be careful. People will start thinking that I'm actually human."

"And we couldn't have that."

"No. Heaven forbid." He grinned at me, before tipping the last of his drink into his mouth and setting the empty glass back on the table. "Well, it's been as entertaining as always, Rose."

He stood, and swept me a mocking bow. A few nearby students watched our exchange with unbridled curiosity. Scorpius turned to leave – he made it as far as the door before turning back, one hand on the handle.

"I don't suppose I'll be seeing you at the party this evening?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"It's a costume party. People will be wearing masks. Care to tell me what you'll be dressing up as?"

I met his eyes impassively. "Some things are best left to the imagination, Malfoy."

"Then how will I know if you're there?" he challenged, arching one pale eyebrow.

Sliding out of the booth, I glanced at him over my shoulder and dropped him a wink that went unseen by the curious eyes that followed us. "I guess you'll never know."

He was still shaking his head ruefully at me as I made my way back over to my table.

* * *

Arya and Alice were engaged in a minor tussle over whose turn it was to use the mirror as I put the finishing touches to my outfit later that evening. We'd been getting ready since shortly after dinner, and I marvelled at how long it had taken the pair of them to even make it to the partway dressed stage they were at.

My dress was simple – long and black, tight in the bodice and decorated with onyx beading that shimmered when the light hit it. It fell to my toes, just skimming the floor in waves of gossamer that swished with my every movement. My black mask – adorned with feathers and the same onyx beading – was firmly secured over my eyes. I'd done my makeup grey and smoky to compliment the look, and I had to admit, I looked pretty good. My hair spilled down past my shoulders in sleek, red waves.

Alice was wearing blue – she'd decided to go as Rowena Ravenclaw – and was in the process of securing a replica diadem to her hair, which she'd intricately braided. Arya looked striking in grey, blood-spattered robes – she'd fully embraced the Halloween theme and was going dressed as the Grey Lady. I suddenly wished Al had decided to dress as the Bloody Baron – they would've made quite a pair.

I immediately dismissed that thought when the girls and I finally headed downstairs into the common room. Ryan was decked out in all his Gryffindor glory, looking resplendent in red, but Al was something to behold. He'd bewitched his hair to be shock white and long enough to tuck into his belt, and was wearing an eclectic mix of gold, purple and emerald green that literally made my eyes water. I laughed delightedly when I saw the full effect, and he gave me a showy twirl, grinning.

"What do you think?"

"I think you should swing by the headmistress's office. I'm sure that would make Dumbledore's portrait's day," I declared, still laughing.

He seemed to be enjoying all the praise being lavished on him by the people that passed as we headed down in a group towards the festivities. I couldn't say it wasn't well-deserved; he really had gone all out. I got my fair share of appreciative looks from the male partygoers myself, and I had to work hard to disguise my grin. With the mask on, I could almost pretend that I was someone else – although my hair probably gave me away.

By the time we reached the dungeon entrance to the Slytherin common room, we could hear the raucous cacophony of the party swelling from within. A Slytherin dressed in Bulgarian Quidditch robes – I assumed he was meant to be Viktor Krum – let us inside, and we were confronted by a strange but powerful sight.

A hundred jack o' lanterns had been bewitched to hang in the air, and the flickering dance of the candlelight combined with the ghostly green glow that was typical for the Slytherin common room was atmospheric, to say the least. Music seemed to swell from the very walls, and the bass reverberated straight through me. All around, people in masks were grouped together; chatting, laughing and drinking copiously. I noticed that quite a few people seemed to have dressed as Death Eaters, in keeping with the scary motif, and a couple of brave souls had even decided to come as Voldemort himself. I almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

Al and Arya immediately disappeared off to dance, and Alice soon mysteriously vanished afterwards. Ryan stuck close by my side, leaning close to my ear to be heard over the din.

"D'you want to get a drink?"

I nodded, and he led me over to a table where a bowl of glowing green punch sat as the centrepiece. I could smell the pungent alcohol fumes from almost a metre away.

Ryan poured us both a cupful of the stuff, and I shuddered delicately as I took my first sip. It was disgusting, but I swallowed it down, enjoying at least the tingling heat it sent through me as it scorched a path down my throat.

Unable to help myself, I glanced around, searching for familiar messy blond hair. Nothing. Maybe he wasn't here yet, I thought, trying desperately to rationalise the sense of severe disappointment that stole through me.

Ryan chatted cheerfully – and loudly – to me over the music, but my responses were half-hearted at best. I kept scanning the crowd around me, all to no avail. Eventually, somewhere between my fourth and fifth cup of that infernal punch, I stopped looking and allowed myself to be towed out onto the dance floor.

I danced with Ryan for a couple of songs, before he was accosted by a very drunk fifth year Gryffindor who I fervently hoped I wasn't related to, from the way she threw herself on him. He grinned at me helplessly, but gallantly decided to dance with the girl. He was just decent that way.

I watched them in amusement for a few moments – their dance was clumsy, at best – before a hand firmly closed around my own and twirled me. My dress billowed as I span, the room lurching around me, until I was caught around the waist by whoever it was who had seized me. An emerald green cloak obscured his features, but I could tell from the height and build and – hell, who was I kidding? – the nervous excitement that stole through me exactly whose arms I'd ended up in.

He confirmed it a second later. "Once again, Freckles, you manage to put everyone else to shame with that dress."

Unthinkingly, I reached up and pulled back his hood, revealing a plain white mask that covered half of his face. That meant that I had an unimpeded view of one of those bright silver eyes as he regarded me.

"I didn't think you were here," I admitted. We were standing close enough that I didn't have to shout to be heard, but the alcohol seemed to have amplified my voice slightly anyway. He grinned.

"I've been here the whole time. Ryan's dogged and ultimately futile pursuit of you was the best entertainment I've had all week."

"He wasn't…" Scorpius spun me out again, and caught me just as deftly on my return. "Pursuing me."

"Sure, he wasn't." He gave me that look again, the one that made me feel like I was being totally obtuse. It didn't have quite the same effect with one half of his face obscured, but the gist still came through.

"Don't give me that look," I warned. He took my wrists and gently guided my arms up around his neck, before settling his hands at my waist. I could feel the electric hum of his touch through the layers of my dress.

"What look would that be?"

"That 'oh-I'm-so-damn-smart-I-know-what-everyone-else-is -thinking look."

He laughed. "I have a look that says that?"

"Yes," I replied. "And you use it frequently."

"Hmm." His grip on me tightened slightly, forcing us closer together, and a thrill of excitement shot through me, blazing a trail almost as hot as the alcohol had before. "Do I have any other specific looks?"

"Yeah." I was rapidly losing control of what I was saying as the punch began to take its toll, but I didn't stop speaking. A feeling of reckless abandonment was starting to course through me, and I embraced it. Weirdly, standing with Scorpius, I knew I'd be safe to act as I pleased. He wouldn't let anything happen to me. "You've got your 'I'm-hilarious-and-I'm-going-to-act-like-it's-no-b ig-deal' look."

Another laugh. "Okay, I'll give you that one. I may have used that look, on occasion."

"And then there's the 'seriously-Rose-you're-stomping-all-over-my-last-n erve' look, but I think that one's reserved for me."

His mouth twisted into that smirk of his. "Oh, yeah. That one is definitely exclusive to you."

"And then," I continued. "There's that look you're giving me right now."

He raised one eyebrow. "What's this one look like, then?"

"Your 'I'm-sexy-and-I-know-it' look."

The smirk grew exponentially, and the sudden flare of heat in his eyes made my breath catch. They were silver fire. "You think I'm sexy?"

"_You _think you're sexy," I corrected. "I think you're…" I struggled for a word, and finally settled on one that made him chuckle again. "Compelling." I decided I really liked the sound of his laugh.

"Like a train wreck in slow motion?" he tacked on.

"Like… something dangerous that I know I should probably stay away from."

He tugged me closer, staring down at me with that same searing gaze. "And yet…" his breath fluttered my hair. "You don't."

"Yeah, well, I live life on the edge." My breathing was coming quicker than it should've been, and my pulse was almost as loud as the music in my ears. The room was doing that thing it always seemed to do whenever Scorpius Malfoy was around – melting away around me until he was the only thing in it.

I raised myself onto the balls of my feet unexpectedly, bringing our faces closer together. He was still much taller, though, so I had to tip my head back to hold his gaze. His pupils were dilated, and I couldn't smell any alcohol on him, so I had to assume it was my proximity that caused the reaction. Nice to know he wasn't immune to my feminine wiles after all.

"Forget what you said about me, Rose," he murmured. "You are, without exception, the most dangerous thing in this room. _I_ should stay away from _you_."

"And yet…" I echoed his earlier thoughts. "You don't."

He smiled. A real smile, not a smirk. I caught sight of one of his dimples again, and was taken aback anew over how arresting that smile really was. My tunnel-vision seemed to increase – the room could've caught fire around me and I wouldn't have noticed.

I wanted so badly for him to kiss me. To hell with whoever saw. Right then, I couldn't have cared less. I'd never felt such single-minded desire in my life.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Scorpius leaned forward, his lips brushing my ear, and I shivered from head to toe, tightening my grip on his neck.

"Yeah."

"You have to promise not to tell."

"Okay," I think I would've agreed to anything at that point. "I won't say a word."

"I cursed Finnigan and Cresswell."

I drew back slightly, raising my eyebrows. "That's not a secret, Scorpius. I already knew that."

"We had a hypothetical conversation."

"It was hardly subtle."

"They saw me do it, you know."

I stopped dancing, staring up at him incredulously. "But if they tell… you'll get into a lot of trouble."

"So?" he said softly. "It was worth it."

I was drowning in his eyes. My fingers slid up into his hair, and I rose onto the balls of my feet once more, my gaze holding his in wordless invitation. To my surprise, he pulled back, creating a little more distance between us.

"What're you…?" I began, confused.

"I'm not going to kiss you, Rose."

"Oh." I was stung by the rejection, not to mention bewildered. Hadn't he just been giving me the impression that that was what he wanted, too? Was I reading that completely wrong? "But I thought…"

He shook his head. "You've been drinking. You're not thinking straight." He leaned down again so his next words were low and husky in my ear. "When I kiss you, I want to know that you're kissing me because you want to. I want to know that you're making a conscious decision to kiss me back. _I_ want to be the reason you're dizzy, not the booze. So, no, I'm not going to kiss you. _Yet_."

I swear, if he hadn't been holding me upright, my legs would've buckled from sheer desire. I could only stare at him, wide-eyed, when he stood back up to his full height. Whatever the expression was on my face, it brought the smirk back to his lips.

"I…" I tried for words, but none came. If someone had told me a week ago that Scorpius Malfoy was going to be the guy that could turn my legs to jelly with a heated look and a few choice words whispered in my ear, I'd have laughed them out of the room.

What a difference a week makes.

A loud scream shattered through the party.

I flinched, letting go of Scorpius to turn unsteadily towards the sound. It had been vaguely familiar, and now I knew why – the strangled noise had come from Arya as she hastily backed away from what looked like a fairly major fight that had kicked off on the ground. I say 'fight' in the loosest sense of the word. A Hufflepuff boy was sprawled on the ground while someone straddled his chest, fists laying into him over and over again. Arya had hold of one of the attacker's arms, and was trying desperately to pry him away from the semi-conscious Hufflepuff. The poor boy's face resembled recently pounded mincemeat.

"Stop it! Stop!" Arya was shrieking, tugging ineffectually on the assailant's elbow. "What's the matter with you? You have to stop!"

I fought my way through the crowd, Scorpius at my side. Everyone was watching in horror, unmoving, as the black-haired attacker raised his split and bloodied knuckles again, ready to deliver another blow. Scorpius lurched into action, grabbing his arm before he could swing it down again, and, in an impressive show of strength, wrenching the boy away from the dazed and beaten Hufflepuff.

He fought against Scorpius's hold, snarling savagely, but Scorpius had both a couple of inches and about twenty pounds on him, which gave him the upper hand.

It was only when he finally succeeded in getting him in a half-nelson that I saw the attacker's face.

It was Albus.

* * *

_**A/N – Thus concludes the weekend chapter, part two. The next one should be up in about a day. **_

_**A question I've been pondering for a while – what do you guys think of Rose and her situation with men and the gossip that spreads about her? Do you feel bad for her, or do you think she's bringing it on herself? **_

_**I only ask because I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine regarding a similar situation that I found myself in – where a lad and his mates were spreading completely untrue rumours about things I'd allegedly done with him, and my friend told me that 'it was my fault for flirting with him in the first place'. I'm curious… do you guys reckon that it's a girl's fault for flirting with a guy that he then makes stuff up about you, or does the blame lie with the guy who spreads the rumours? I'm inclined to believe the latter, but if I'm missing some unspoken girl-rule, please clue me in. **_

_**Anyway, I'll check in with a new update in a bit.**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**PJ**_

_**x**_


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